


Secrets of the Isle of the Lost

by DanayaJasmina, QueenAshe (queenofdespair)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Beast is Called Adam (Disney), Blood and Violence, Canon Rewrite, Child Neglect, Dark Descendants, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil VKs, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Isle of the Lost (Disney), Mental Instability, Minor Ben/Mal (Disney: Descendants), Minor Character Death, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Past Child Abuse, Politics, Post-Descendants 2, Serious Injuries, The Author Regrets Nothing, This is not Disney's Version, United States of Auradon (Disney), United States of Auradon (Disney) Is Not Perfect, Worldbuilding, and nobody is allowed to forget it, established relationships - Freeform, fuck Auradon, nobody is innocent, racist auradonians, reference to past abuse, rotten four are not friends, the isle of the lost is a shitty place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanayaJasmina/pseuds/DanayaJasmina, https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofdespair/pseuds/QueenAshe
Summary: 1/23/19-All edits and revisions have been applied. Happy reading!---“I’ll make sure to completely crush him and his spirit.” She said, her eyes narrowing some."...When time comes, we will get our revenge.”“You get to come to Auradon, plan to destroy it, have a half-assed change of heart and live here happily? Did you honestly think these people would fucking welcome you with open arms? That you could forget where you came from?”‘I won’t hesitate to burn anyone that gets in my damn way either..’ His calm face hid his raging anger.The next time, Jay, himself would fucking burn down Auradon and it’s pretty little kingdom, with Mal inside.---Evil lives on... whether Auradon likes it or not.





	1. Prologue: "Numb".

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We'll Light the Fuse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11735070) by [evanescentdream93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanescentdream93/pseuds/evanescentdream93). 
  * Inspired by [Don't Forgive or Forget, Ever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12055797) by [elphaba_swan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elphaba_swan/pseuds/elphaba_swan). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to the "canon" events of Descendants 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elphaba_swan's's beautiful story, "Don't Forget or Forget, Ever" inspired us to write a darker, realistic version of the Descendants world, including the Isle of the Lost.  
> evanescencedream93's amazing story "We'll Light the Fuse" inspired us to heavily edit and revise our story. Thanks to the both of them for writing kickass work.  
> -QueenAshe and DanayaJasmina.

 

_“Love… is pointless.” Slow, painful, experienced. She must be talking from experience somehow. Maleficent sneered, but it was quickly replaced with an evil chuckle. Sauntering down the small royal blue steps, she brought her hand against Ben’s cheek. The Prince- well, future King’s head stiffly turned, still frozen in Maleficent’s spell. This entertained the Dark Fairy, as she subtly smirked with her narrowed eyes settling on Mal. “It's not what you want.”_

  
_“Mom..” The purple-haired girl managed out with a shaky breath. “Have you asked me even once what I want? I'm not you!” The spawn of Maleficent cried out, slapping her hands against her thighs in exasperation. Her eyes were pleading with her, hoping that somehow, somewhere inside of that body of hers that there would be a heart. Something that would listen or at least finally recognize her as blood and flesh._

  
_“Of course not!” The woman’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head. She sighed exasperatedly, and held her chin up. Looking down at the green eyed girl through her pointed eyelashes, she continued. “I've had centuries of practice!” She opened her arms with a flourish, her left hand wagging Fairy Godmother’s wand at her. “And with some more practice, you'll, oh I don’t know, maybe, get there soon enough yourself.”_

_Mal frowned at her mother, wishing that she could be surprised at what she just said. She only shook her head. “Mom, I won't!” She exclaimed, breathing in, trying to calm the wave of emotions that threatened to swallow her. “I won't get there! And... I wish that you hadn’t gotten there yourself..” Mal found herself saying the later part softly. “Love is not weak! Or pointless!” There was still a part of her that was trying. That still wanted her mom to listen._

_To care._

_To love her._

_...But little did Mal know, that her little blunder just now ruined any chance of that._

_Maleficent stood and stared at her for what felt like a long minute before her face twisted up in visible anger, and disgust. She strode over to Mal, stopping a few feet in front of her and towered over her. “Let me tell you one thing, little girl.” Her eyes began to glow green, a darker shade of green that Mal was not familiar with. The hand that held the wand clenched it so tightly that her knuckles audibly cracked. She raised her voice, which made Mal flinch. “You have NO room for love in your miserable, sad, pathetic life!”_

  
_Something in her broke._

_“Why?!"_ _Angry, hot tears gathered at the corner of her eyes, threatening to fall down with her next words. “Why won't you meet me halfway? What did I do for you to hate me? Why can’t you ever be happy with what I do for you? Why can’t you just love me?!”_

  
_“Love?” Maleficent backed away from her, a hand over where her heart should be, offended. For a couple of seconds, there were something lurking in her eyes. Hurt. “Love?!" She repeated, snarling out. She bared her teeth at the girl, narrowing her eyes. "Love is useless! It's nothing!_ **_Just like you!_ ** _I don't love you because I simply don't! If you were even HALF the woman your sister was supposed to be, then maybe I would!” Maleficent snapped, hatred dancing all over her face. The glow continued into a low, menacing hum. A wave of dark green magical energy burst out from Maleficent and nearly knocked Mal, and the other VKs over._

  
_“If.. If I was what?” Mal asked, confused. It was her turn to take a step back now. Refusing to be overcome with emotion, she blinked away her tears fiercely. “Sister? What are you talking about mom? You aren't making any-”_

_“Ugh!” Maleficent threw her head back dramatically. “How can you be my daughter if you're so dense?!” She screeched, throwing her hands up into the air. With the same dramatic flair, the Dark Fairy turned on the balls of her heels and placed her head on Beast’s frozen shoulder. Her hand dragged down his arm and she pretended to sob. “Children! Wretched things!” She yelled suddenly, cursing aloud. A long, exaggerated sigh left her lips as she moved her head from his body and continued walking, but in a rage-fueled circle. “They cry and cry and CRY and CRY when they're toddlers and pull your hair, and ruin the only nice clothes you have, and they demand all of your attention and then they're growing up and disrespecting you and taking EVERYTHING you've done for granted-” She looked up to see a confused Mal and pointed the wand at her. “You, you, you! You've taken my youth from me! My damn life and you have the nerve, the AUDACITY to stand to I, Maleficent, great and all-powerful and say that I don't love you, or that I haven't been considerate to you!? CONSIDERATE?! I could have abandoned you or sold you off or killed you myself but no, I decided to raise and groom you, teach you the ways of evil! Isn't that enough, you ungrateful little whelp?! Love is almost as terrible as being trapped on that godforsaken prison island! I don't love because I don't want to lose ever again!” She yelled, ejecting spittle at Mal’s face which made her flinch again. Mal was scared to wipe it off. “I don't love because I lost my daughter and lover!” Maleficent finally said, throwing up her arms again._

_At Maleficent yelling, Carlos visibly flinched, his arms wrapping himself. He wished that he was anywhere but there at the Cathedral. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to reminded of yelling, of burnt bark and dog cages. He slowly sunk onto his heels, tucked his knees into his chest, and wrapped his arms around his legs in an attempt to make himself smaller. Evie’s voice had died when the Mistress of All Evil first made her appearance. She was scared, but she was more concerned for Carlos._

_“C? Hey,” she muttered, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, hey.. It’s okay. It’s me. You’re gonna be okay.” She bent down to the trembling boy’s frame and tried to console him, despite the fact that they weren’t really in the most ‘appropriate’ of situations to do so._

_Jay kept his distance, having always been the most emotionally stunted of all of them. He knew that it was a tense moment, and that he should be concerned or maybe scared, but he simply wasn’t. In fact, he was a bit annoyed at Carlos’ open weakness._

_That shit would have gotten him killed on the Isle._

_The only thing that was an inconvenience to Jay was the fact that his feet were killing him in these fancy dress shoes, though the truth was that he was a bit unnerved... If he really **did** die right here and now, then a certain someone would be upset at him. She’d never forgive him if he were to die right then… With a silent, clenched jaw, he thought about what he could do. Dying wasn’t an option. Jay’s fight or flight mode was activated._

_Meanwhile, tears had started to come out of Mal’s eyes and she didn’t want to wipe them away. She couldn’t. She felt too weak for anything, much less standing. She couldn’t describe the feeling that had settled in her chest. But it felt heavy, like it could crush her insides. She swallowed reluctantly._

_“I was heart-broken, damn it! You were a mistake out of a stupid moment of weakness! That's why I hate you! You were never supposed to be born!! I hate you, Mal! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,_ **_I hate you!!!_ ** _”. The only thing that snapped Maleficent out of that moment was the sound of a faint cracking. She looked down to see that if she had held the wand any tighter, it would have broken in half. She looked at it, then at Mal as things now quieted down. Her shoulders rose and fell as she breathed heavily._  
_  
__The other VKs were quiet as Maleficent had her meltdown. Out of all of them, Carlos was visibly afraid. He was still curled up into a ball. Evie's bottom lip trembled and she felt small. She squeezed Carlos’ shoulder as if to reassure herself more than him - but the truth was that she was deathly afraid of Maleficent too -- she always was, from young. What jump started her fears was the sixth birthday party fiasco, while Jay was the least fazed._

_He's heard worse._

_He knew that Jafar hated him, that he despised his very being. This was normal for him to hear. But seeing as how Mal was desperate for her mom’s attention, he only somewhat understood how it could be hard for her to hear. But Mal was someone he also didn’t like, so a small part of him found it amusing how she was crying at realizing how much her mother hated her. They were the children of villains. Though the familiar, nagging sound of his father started to bounce around in his head, he pushed that down... He had no sympathy to give out. All of it was stripped from him, along with any trace of innocence he had, ever since Jay was six years old._ _What the hell was she actually expecting? Jay thought._

_Villains don’t love their children, at least as far as he was concerned._

_Mal inhaled deeply, with the realization that there would be no getting through to her. It hurt._ _A part of her didn’t even want to accept it; even as Maleficent’s cold, piercing cold eyes screamed the truth. Mal couldn't even really feign surprise -- this was the same woman who cared about a **black raven**  more than her. She was a villain, after all, wasn't she? But still… She shook her head, trying to ignore the stupid words that Lonnie uttered when they were almost caught making “cookies” in the kitchen. _

_(“I thought even villains loved their children”)._

_She felt that familiar something breaking again within her. Was it feelings? Was she feeling sad? Disappointed? Shattered? Yes. Maleficent had always put an insurmountable amount of expectations on her, and rarely put her hands on her, but it wasn’t until then that Mal felt all of it.  She felt the weight of all the disappointment she accumulated in her mother’s eyes and she felt like she might really have succumbed to the almost-too-real-pressure of it all. But instead, she put her mask on. She couldn’t afford to be weak. Putting that out of her mind, she finally wiped at her face with the back of her palms and squared her shoulders. With a burst of strength that she never knew, she used her outstretched arm and yelled,_

_  
_ _“And now I command, Wand to my hand!”_

 _  
_ _A pure golden energy surrounded the wand and swirled around Maleficent's hand. "No!” She shouted, fighting the control of the new spell. With the strength that Maleficent was able to muster, she pulled her arm back and struggled, but to no avail. The wand flew right out of her hand and into Mal’s._

 _  
_ _'Holy--.. I did it.' She thought to herself, looking at the wand in her hand with awe. She smiled, and a wave of relief washed over her. However the moment doesn't last long as this angered Mal’s mother into marching in a circle again._

 _“How dare you?! Give that back!” Maleficent shouted. She opened her palm and motioned for the magical item. When Mal objected, it sent her into a deeper fury. “Give me the wand, Give me the wand, GIVE ME THE DAMN WAND!”_ _  
_

_Mal stepped back further. Carlos had gotten to his feet, but that was only because he was leaning against Evie, who looked like she was about to break down. She didn’t want to because if she did, she wouldn’t be able to see clearly, because her tears would have gotten in the way, and she couldn’t risk that --she knew that she had to be strong for Carlos. His arm fell limply around her shoulders, and one of her rested around his torso. She made sure to back up into a pillar, where she could safely put him. Delicately, she put him down, and let him sit down, with his head in his knees, and his arms wrapped around himself. He whimpered, and muttered something about “being sorry, Cruella”. Evie’s ears caught it and the words made her heart sink into the pits of her stomach. She tried to snap him out of it again, by gently reminding him that she was here with him, that they weren’t on the Isle, and that he was safe (aside from Maleficent). She looked over Carlos’ shoulder every once in a while just in case._

_Her kindness would have also gotten her killed on the Isle - it’s a surprise how she survived, though under her niceties, lied a girl that could be fierce when pushed._

_When Evie looked down at Carlos, she was reminded of how she felt when she was stuck in his closet. Helpless, alone, scared. But back then, he was there for her. He came looking for her through the back entrance. He was the first friend that she made, and he had her back, back then. So she was merely returning the favor._

_“Cruella’s not here,” she maintained. “It’s me, E. C’mon, Carlos. It’s Me. It’s Evie.” She forced herself to sound strong, despite not feeling as such. She squeezed his hands reassuringly._

_Jay, the son of Jafar, lunged forward with a well-landed punch to the Mistress’ staff. Was it his best idea? Probably not, but it was the only thing that he could think of. He was never good at thinking of things when he was irritated. And Mal’s mom was plenty irritating. (And the damn dress shoes - For the love of lamps, resisting the urge to take it off and chucking them at Maleficent would have been a better plan instead -- and it was getting harder to **not** want to do that). The jewel on the top of the black staff glowed ominously like her eyes, and he felt a force that made him stick to the wooden item. He tried to pull his fist back but he couldn't. Maleficent allowed her pointed nails to climb up from his wrist to his forearm and finally his shoulder, making the boy glare at her in annoyance. He hated being touched without his _ _damn permission_ ** _._ ** _She flashed him a dangerous smile. “Oh my, can't have you damaging my property, can we?” She clicked her tongue twice. Tsk, tsk. She then felt his bicep, and cooed, “Gaston should be jealous.” Swiftly, he found himself being sent flying with a wave of magical energy. He landed with an "oof"._

 _  
_ _Even though their relationship--ehem, **hating** each other’s guts-thing was still going strong, Mal found herself yelling his name. (He wasn’t sure if it was out of some half-assed concern, or because of how he landed, but he could have sworn that Mal _**_cared_** _, even for five seconds)._ _Evie looked up from Carlos, “Jay!”_

_The thief waved off their concerns, throwing up a lazy thumbs up. “I’ve been hit harder,” he coughed, winded by how he landed._

_“ENOUGH!” She roared, something inhuman-like accompanying her voice. It was deep, and harsh, and sounded like more than one voice. “You all will regret this!” She promised, as lime-green smoke began to fill the room. It was thick, and hard to see but it gathered at the woman’s feet and it covered her. Arms and legs vanished as the reassembling of bones and limbs occurred, sickening snaps echoing off of the Cathedral’s walls. When it cleared, she roared. The smoke dissipated with a mighty flap of dark black and purple wings. What stood before the four VKs now was a Dragon._

_A dragon that wanted to kill them all._

_Maleficent kicked her legs off of the ground, launching herself into the air above the four of them._

_Jay, the boy in the red leather jacket who had just recovered, now found himself face to face with the beast and only had five seconds to duck as the Dragon opened its maw to spew it's hot fire at him. He avoided it just in time but the beast also dived down, lunging at him and the thief again had to duck and roll out of the way. Luckily, he was fast. But as a dragon, Maleficent was too. She was hot on his heels, snapping her mouth at him which didn't help his adrenaline. He didn't want to die - not that he feared death-- but still, not like **this**. Not by a clearly mentally unstable Dragon-woman thing. 'Fuck.' _ _He ran to a pillar, but she was there so he turned on the balls of his feet again and ran toward_ _s the podium - also running right in front of Maleficent. "Shi--" He slightly stumbled, but regained his footing - again, he turned and ran, obviously on autopilot._

_  
_ _“Jay! Over here!” Mal shouted, appearing to have whatever strength she had sapped away again. She sounded scared, tired, and shaken. He barely heard what she said to be honest, but he knew well enough that he couldn't outrun Maleficent if she was airbound and if he were in these slippery dress shoes that he hated so damn much. (Again, the intrusive thought entered his mind to throw his shoes off… But the voice in his head was also telling him to shove the pointy end of them into Maleficent’s eye to blind the bitch). He missed his combat boots. Viciously pushing those thoughts down, he ran towards the group. When he did, the beast followed, still hot on his heels. Jay tucked himself into a tight ball and dove straight forward, which landed him roughly behind Mal. Evie didn’t have time to finish consoling Carlos, so she got up to her feet upon seeing the dragon dove down towards her "allies". (Because Jay told her once that he only had one best friend, and it was none of them. He was back on the Isle. So “allies.. for now”)._

_“Magic Mirror, shine your bright light!” Evie, the daughter of Evil Queen exclaimed. Quickly bringing out both of her hands, she brandished the shard of the Magic Mirror that her mother had gifted to her (from a small pocket in her dress - she wondered why more dresses didn’t have that function). A brilliant, blinding light came from it, obscuring the black and purple menace’s vision. It groaned, trying to move it’s head away from the source of the light. Closing its eyes in vain and screeching, it fell to the ground, it’s talons clashing against the no longer clean, tidy tiles of the Cathedral. While it was down and temporarily blinded, Mal again had found her courage (somehow), and pushed the girl in the blue dress roughly behind her saying,_

_  
_ _“Get behind me, E!”_

_Evie might have almost stumbled over her heels, but she didn't say anything. Mal's previously tear-stricken face was now dried up, though new ones were forming. For the first time in her sixteen years of living, Mal was scared. Actually, truly scared. But that did not stop the next words that would tumble out of her mouth as her eyes began flickering green again. “Stop it!” She declared, feeling stronger than she know she must have looked. (Is this what emotions and truly feeling them felt like? She felt like a mess. No wonder why she was so disoriented. Note to self; If she survives this, never speak of her weakness to anyone. Not even Evie. She hated feelings. She hated being this … out of place, feeling so small, like she was didn’t matter,_ **_didn’t belong_** _)._

 _  
_ _Maleficent growled, smoke coming out of her nostrils. It surrounded Mal and the air suddenly felt thick and heavy with tension but still, that did not deter her. She didn’t know what to do, but all she knew was that she didn't want to die to her mother. She was trembling and it was obvious that she was still shaken up from the shouting match from earlier, but she still didn't-- **couldn’t** let that stop her so she instead focused her energy on the Dragon in front of her. She had to cast another spell and quick._

_“The strength of evil is good as none when stand before four hearts as one!” When nothing happened, she began to panic but she tried again. She didn’t have time to worry if she was saying it correctly either. “The strength of evil is good as none when stand before four hearts as one!” She said again, slightly louder. She squared her shoulders again, her eyes ceasing in their flickering, now solidifying. The green in her eyes swirled as Maleficent stalked closer. Again, nothing happened - and for a second, Evie remembered that she forgot something. Her hazel eyes scanned the area,_

_“Carlos!”_

_The De Vil boy answered back in a low voice that only she could hear. Mal’s eyes squeezed shut as she drowned out Evie’s near high-pitch voice so that she could focus on the spell. Carlos elicited a worried squeak from Evie as he revealed himself hiding behind a different pillar. He waved from his spot, and Evie motioned for him to stay there, where he was safer. But Carlos felt wrong leaving Evie up front, while he cowered behind her, back like he did on Isle, when she was able to stand up for him… He squared his shoulders, and cautiously, yet carefully hurried over to her. With a knowing smile, she squeezed his shoulder saying as if saying ‘I’m proud of you.’ They even shared a protective embrace, as if trying to hug each other's fears away._

_"The strength of evil is good as none when stand before four hearts as one!” Mal shouted._

_Maleficent’s eyes glowed green again and they were locked in another staring contest._ _Evie stepped closer to her, as did Carlos, the boy with black roots and mostly white hair, who was the son of Cruella De Vil. Jay was the last to step closer to Mal, justifiably still wary of the dragon. Their stomachs (including Mal’s) were tied in knots so tightly that it felt like it was hard to breathe, and if they had eaten something previously, they would’ve thrown it up by then. Maleficent gave another menacing growl, smoke still pumping out of her nostrils. Mal stood her ground, despite wanting to collapse. She clenched her fists, willing herself to not lose this contest. She had to. And it was that burst of power from within that made Maleficent screech in pain. Her eyes stopped glowing and smoke arose suddenly. Mal gasped and jumped back, stepping on Carlos’ toes which made him stumble into Jay, which made him curse in pain at Carlos and retaliate by harshly punching him in the shoulder --which in turn made Carlos stumble into Evie’s chest. The group erupted into a mini whisper-shouting match but fell silent when the smoke cleared, and everyone around them unfroze. Unlike before, the smoke was a dark purple. And the fearsome dragon that almost killed them…_  
  
_...had somehow turned into a small, harmless lizard._  
  
_\---_

A week later:   
  
“Mother, why didn't you tell me?” Mal asked the black and purple lizard. She was sitting on her bed, staring at her in the glass case. It was a case for pets and it felt cruel but she didn't want the risk of her mom getting stepped on or squashed or something worse. In some weird, near masochistic fashion, she still had feelings for her mom even if the feelings aren't reciprocated. In true Mal fashion, she kept her innermost thoughts and feelings to herself.

Which included not telling Ben about the “sister” she may or may not have.

...But she did tell him everything else. They also told the royal guards and Fairy Godmother that they managed to get the wand back from Maleficent and defeat her. (Not the guards believed a bunch of VKs, but since they didn’t really have proof saying _otherwise_ … they were forced to drop the accusations). It's not that they were lying to Ben, who was now King- and son of former Queen and King Belle and Adam- they were just omitting some of the truth.

  
There was a knock at the door which broke Mal out of her thought bubble. It was slightly opened, so in walked Evie who shortly afterwards announced herself with a concerned look on her face. “Hey, Mal… are you okay?”

  
“..Just peachy.” Mal responded flatly.

Evie walked towards her and sat next to Mal on the bed. The sarcasm wasn't lost on her. She frowned slightly. “....Your mind wasn’t there in _Life Skills Without Magic_  today. What’s going on with you? Is it about the... you-know?”  

  
_**(“I don't love you because I simply don't! If you were even HALF the woman your sister was supposed to be, then maybe I would!” ).**_ Mal held her arm and anxiously rubbed her bicep. All her life she was compared to people… and now, a girl that she’s _never even met_ was supposedly better than Mal. Even worse, a _sibling_ that she never knew she had. She sighed softly. Mal opened her mouth but then stopped herself, sighing ever so softly. 

  
“Mal..”  
  
“I guess... I got my answer," she blurted out. "I just always wanted to know why.. Just why she never accepted me, why she made me work so hard.” Mal laughed bitterly. It matched her angry, green, spiteful eyes. “Now I know. She tried the whole 'true love' thing and it didn't work out. Mother went crazy because of it...”

Evie shifted uncomfortably. She didn't like Mal's dismissive tone when saying 'true love'. Well, it's not like Evie was deeply in love at the moment, but she did develop a crush on Doug, so that was something. From the looks of things, it was mutual... merely thinking about Doug made Evie smile. Her cheeks heated up, and she remembered where she was. Clearing her throat, she put her hands into her lap and nodded in understanding. Evie's mother wasn't exactly against true love... but... "You're not blaming yourself, are you?" 

Mal looked up at her and almost laughed in her face. "Are you kidding? Why the hell would I blame myself? It's not my fault." She huffed, feeling her smile die. Mal glared at the ground, grinding her teeth against each other. “I just don’t understand why she doesn’t love me. I’m her daughter too..." She muttered more to herself, than Evie. "What makes that bitch so fucking special?!" A small crack appeared in the glass case that housed her lizard mother. She didn’t notice it, because she was too upset to, in addition to her trying to walk out of the room.

Instead, Mal breathed, centered herself and closed her eyes. She needed to keep her cool. 

Despite, Mal's attempts to calm down, Evie knew better than to relax. 

Things like this reminded Evie of how she was back on the Isle...

Mal looked like she was going to tear her own hair out. She was seething, clutching handfuls of her dark purple hair. This was unlike the Mal she knew; the usual Mal would stay calm and smirk or say something witty.

Unbeknownst to the other VKs, those were just fronts; letting her mother, or others see her sweat was something that she couldn't afford. Mal wasn't treated that badly in comparison to the other Villain Kids, (at least in her opinion), but that didn't mean that being related to her mother was a walk in the park. Mal simply got more crafty and cunning -- eventually, learning how to manipulate and take advantage of her mother at the same time... which was relatively easy since her mother was generally unstable. She just happened to not know the extent of it -- not until the Coronation, which bothered Mal the most. 

Okay, so _maybe_ her mother was lying, maybe her mother just wanted to get back at her, for the years that Mal managed to fuck with her head. (This was what she wanted to desperately believe). But the way that her mother snapped... her words, her actions, it all made Mal's stomach tie in knots. A _sister_. Her eyes opened and were starting to flicker green like back at the Coronation.

“Mal! Chill, okay? You need to breathe.” Evie cautiously walked closer, reaching out for the other girl. 

The daughter of Maleficent tried taking deep breaths, again. She let go of her hair and the glow from her eyes stopped. She walked past Evie, to one of the beds and plopped down, face-first. “Urghhh!" She groaned, her voice muffled by the pillow. If Mal hadn’t cried so much already, she would have cried again right then and there. Something icky-feeling and heavy sat at Mal’s stomach. She didn't know what it was, but she didn't like it. 

Evie again, cautiously approached Mal and sat on the bed next to her, watching over the purple-haired girl. The girls sat there, sharing a moment of silence for a few moments. Evie softly rubbed Mal's shoulder and she allowed her to. The rest of the night was spent consoling Mal, coupled with long moments of semi-awkward, tense silence.

  
Silence and unspoken thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For future references: italicized scenes = flashbacks.  
> Other than that, they're used for emphasis on words and such. (Bold and italicized words as well). 
> 
> \---
> 
> This fanfiction is mostly canon-compliant or at least borrows a lot from source material while also being fueled by my sister and I's headcanons (which is either backed up by canon or can be explained using it, or related outside sources). At the same time, it's a rewrite since the both of us love the idea and concept of Descendants.... but not the execution of said ideas. Thusly, this story was born. 
> 
> We hope you enjoy our version as much as we enjoyed writing it!


	2. Chapter 1: "Something Wicked this Way Comes"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal vs Uma goes down differently... Way differently. 
> 
> Feat. cameos from our future main characters of the story.

_Six months later:_

_“Here’s the deal.”_

_Uma, the daughter of Ursula drawled out, narrowed eyes staring at Mal with mild amusement. How funny it was, that this fucking traitor came back - to the Isle, no to **Uma,** the person that she ditched years ago like many people Mal had did before... Uma had grown much since the last time Mal saw her, and it almost caught Mal off guard. She wasn't the same little girl that she hurt. She wasn't the same, naive girl that Mal betrayed in vain, trying to get her mother's love. She was different - stronger, powerful it seemed, somehow. How she managed to thrive on an Island as a natural born leader, where Mal failed miserably...? Where she had to get by, using her mother's name to strike fear into the hearts of people, instead of relying on her own power?..._

_Instead of making a name for herself, like Uma had done?_

_“Just like your mother. Always a catch, huh?”_ _Mal asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow and straightest-face that she could muster._

_She pushed down her insecurities into a small, ill-fitting box, locked it, and threw away the key. She would not be emotionally vulnerable again. She would **not** be weak again. Never again.. This earned Mal a soft “hmph” from the sea witch and pirate._

_Smoothly, Uma slid a hand across the table and took a seat across from the purple-haired traitor. With a hard SLAM, the walnut-complexioned girl planted her elbow firmly on the table between them, holding out her hand to Mal._

_Uma didn't hide her clear enjoyment in the small minute expressions in Mal's face that betrayed the "tough girl" persona that Mal tried so hard to project._

_“Arr, so,” Uma said firmly, with a small shrug of her shoulders as she looked Mal up and down like she was goblin snot on the bottom of her shoe. Her patronizing gaze was one of the things that Mal hated most about Uma now. Those eyes used to look at her with some sort of hope. With familiarity, friendship. It was hard to believe that they used to be friends once... especially with how coldly they regarded each other._

_"If you win, Beasty boy is free to go. Oh.. and I’ll cough up information about your sister.” Uma smirked after stating her last sentence, which made Mal’s face harden even more. Mal’s hastiness was why she immediately grabbed the other girl’s arm. Uma pretended to frown. “Aww, what’s wrong, jar o’ expired mayonnaise? Did I strike a chord?” She then chuckled to herself. “You’re gonna lose if you’re not careful.”_ _  
_

_"Still dreaming,” Mal spat. Her eyes narrowed. She just wanted to get this shit over with and get Ben back. But... she also wanted to know about her sister, wanted to know why her mother never...-- No. She would not allow her insecurities get the best of her. Not again. Mal's face twisted into a dark expression as she tried to keep her traitorous thoughts at bay._

_“Don’t you wanna know what I get if I win?”_

_“You **won’t** win,” Mal insisted. _

_Uma smirked again, brown eyes drinking in her obvious frustration. “Your mom did this same shit too. Thought that she had things in the bag. I wonder, how did she end up again?”_

_With that, Mal adjusted herself on the chair and firmly closed her hand around Uma’s. She's had enough of her sass._

**_“_ ** _On three_ **_.”_ **

_Uma counted first._

_Then Mal._

_They both said three at the same time. Mal was almost immediately shocked by the amount of sheer strength that the girl held in her body._

_‘I’m the daughter of Maleficent.’ she told herself. ‘I’m **Mal**.’ Giving herself a mental pep talk gave her a small edge over the sea witch in an aqua, ocean-themed leather jacket. Mal wore an air of coldness, and apathy, but internally, she slightly panicked, the intrusive thought of Ben being fed to sharks jumping at her consciousness. She again, pushed it down. Uma’s taunting glare didn’t help her…. They were too similar, too much like her mother’s glare… powerful and hard, which made her feel small-- Damn it, what was with her? Why was she stumbling so damn much?_

_“I never brought your princess act. Not even for a second." Uma started casually. "Wanna know why? Because if you stick a tiara on a villain, you’re still a fuckin’ villain.”_

_“And you can slap on a pirate hat but you’re still Shrimpy.” Mal countered with a bit of a wicked smile - hoping to dig under Uma's skin._

_It backfired because it didn’t faze Uma who began to laugh, even as Mal’s eyes glowed green._

_“If I win… you gotta bring me the wand.”_

_Mal’s eyes widened. 'The wand-? Why-’ But she wasn’t allowed to finish that question because Uma used that opportunity to take Mal’s hand and slam it on the table, which shocked her even further. ‘I.. lost?’ Her mouth was agape._

_‘I lost... to fucking_ **_Uma_** _.’_

_\---_

Over two months later: 

_‘I can't believe that she used my spell book to put Ben under a love spell..'_

(Ironic how Mal had did the exact same, but didn’t consider it wrong, like how Uma did it…).

Mal grabbed her arm and rubbed at her bicep, out of anxiety.  _'Still can't believe that Shrimpy crashed Cotillion….’_ Mal thought to herself, angrily steaming on her bed. She chewed on the nail on her thumb, trying to calm herself.

( _“ **Your sister send her regards.”** ) _

It was what Uma whispered into her ear when she hugged Mal, a spelled Ben in tow. Just thinking about that whole thing made her even angrier. Tensing up, she accidentally bit her nail and some of her skin off. _"_ _Rotten apples-!”_ She hissed, coming back into reality.

She plopped onto her bed, covering her thumb in her palm. She suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion again because she could feel the green flickering in her eyes - recently, it felt like a flow of power that concentrated there. She felt like she was going to overheat or explode soon because this whole ‘sister’ thing was killing her. The events of the past six, nearly seven months were taking a toll on her, slowly but surely. Mal sighed and sat up. The silence in the room reminded her that Evie was busy ... or something. 

It was selfish of Mal to think so, but she thought that Evie was _supposed_ to be here.

Mal had forgotten that Evie started her own fashion line called _Evie 4 Hearts._  Her boyfriend Doug, Dopey's son helped her whenever he could. And although she never said anything, she didn't like Doug - no, she didn't like how he was _spending_ time with her. Evie was _her_ friend (okay, _not_ the right word, but she didn't have another, and "henchman" sounded too harsh to use; Evie would never go with that!).

It often annoyed and made her feel uncomfortable when Evie spent time with other people. (Mal told herself it was because she still didn't really trust the populace of Auradon, rather than her being territorial over someone that wasn't even all that close to her in the first place).

Carlos and Jay were busy with both Tourney and R.O.A.R, not that Mal _really cared_ about either of them. (She just wasn't that close to either boys, especially _not_ Jay). Mal herself, was struggling as she tried to juggle being Lady of The Court and Ben’s girlfriend. The stress and pressure were returning to her in full force, which made her cough. She sat up quickly, putting a fist over her mouth. _‘Damn Uma,’_ she thought to herself. She apparently still hadn’t completely recovered from the big battle with Ursula’s kid at Cotillion. Her lungs felt like they were burning from when she nearly died, and she’d still get phantom pains occasionally, especially when she was under huge amounts of stress.

_\---_

_Uma picked up her dress and ran to the railing of the yacht, after Fairy Godmother’s orders of “Seize her!”. The dark-brown skinned girl looked down at the water below, her eyes narrowed. Her thoughts were interrupted by a laugh. Uma’s shoulders tensed, as she knew who that laugh belonged to. She turned around, her hands holding onto the railing behind her, suppressing the urge to grab Mal by the hair and rip it off of her **head**. _

_How dare she mock her? Mal's green eyes drank in Uma's annoyed and irritated expression -- much like she did on the Isle._

_In the same way that Mal looked at her ever she dumped that bucket on shrimp over her head... Uma’s lips pulled back in a livid snarl._

_“This isn’t fuckin’ funny, you bitch.” Uma found her poker-face cracking._

_“Oh, but it is! --To me.” Mal smugly smirked, folding her arms over her chest. It was so easy to fall back into Isle habits, and she didn't even hold back her pleasure of having to hold something over her archenemy. It felt right. She raised up her chin, as if to look down at Uma (despite the fact that she was only 5’2” and Uma was taller by several inches, standing at 5'7"). “It wasn’t enough that you had to kidnap the King, but you had to spell him too? Shit, that’s low, even for you. How sad. I’m surprised that you didn’t bring your lapdog with you. Where is he, by the way?”_

_At this, the whole student body got silent, with almost all of them moving back at once. They didn’t understand what was going on, but those sounded like fighting words._

_Fighting words that Uma took to heart._

_She growled viciously, slowly moving away from the railing. Cracking her neck on one side, then the other, she removed her earrings and placed them inside her brown clutch that had different colored starfish on it. She held it out to the side and a random student shakily took it, backing away just as quick. Her calm, collected mask completely fell._

**_This bitch was going down._ **

_“What. The._ **_Fuck_ ** _. Did you just say?” Uma hissed through a tightly clenched jaw. The night sky became dressed in dark gray clouds, which covered the stars. Several Auradonians looked up in surprise. Uma ignored them all, solely focusing on Mal. “Take back what you said about Harry. Right the_ **_FUCK_ ** _now!” She roared, her necklace glowing. Thunder boomed overhead, which made several students scream and duck. When Mal only continued laughing, the VKs and Ben moved away - surprised by the exchange._

_(Though he REALLY shouldn’t be; Mal obviously had some …”beef” with Uma, but he just didn’t know deep it was until then. ‘Was Mal always this ...cruel?’ He found himself thinking). He didn’t know how to feel at the moment._

_“How about you make me, Shrimpy?”_

_And that was the last straw._

_Harsh rain came down from the sky as thunder split it again. Uma saw red and in some angry strides, she was at Mal’s throat, faster than the half-fairy could blink. Logic went out of the window, and the lust for blood, **for revenge** , to make her enemy **hurt and bleed** , took over. Mal opened her mouth to try to say something but all she could manage was a small, mouse-like squeak. Uma’s hand wrapped around her neck, while the other arm was reeled back, fingers curled up into a fist. She rammed it into Mal’s face, ignoring the girl’s pained cry. _

_"Shut the fuck up! You have no fuckin’ idea what shit I've put up with!” She hit Mal in the eye this time, which made her, cry out in pain. A part of Uma reveled in it. “You fucked with the wrong one! Do you think it’s fucking funny when I have to worry about where the next meal for my crew comes from, while you get to laugh it up and eat strawberries?! Do you think it’s funny that you get to have a luxurious life here, when there are other kids who will never, fucking ever get that chance because they're DEAD?!" Her voice rose with each word, hitting Mal almost as hard as her fist. Mal tried to grab at Uma’s hand, but Uma again, was much more physically stronger than her. The hold on her neck tightened as Uma continued her rage-filled tirade with hot, angry tears falling from her face._

_“You turned your back on us just like Auradon did!"_

_She finally released Mal, the girl falling to her knees, her hands around her throat. She coughed harshly, her eyes squeezed shut. Due to the wet surface, Mal struggled with her footing and slipped onto her side, still coughing, trying to desperately catch her breath._

_Uma glowered at the students watching in horror and pointed a finger at the Isle. "_ _ALL OF YOU ARE TO BLAME FOR THAT SHIT!"_

_Her eyes turned to Ben, and he flinched. More thunder boomed overhead as the rain pelted them even harder, to the point where it felt like hail. Uma was a powerful, dangerous person but the rain that poured down on them had smudged and ruined her makeup, making her look all the more terrifying. She regained her voice and heaved, slipping her metaphorical mask back on as if it was normal for her._

_(Which it was)._

_“Do you ...have ....any fucking idea what your sweet little Mal did to me? What she did to others...? All the dirty little things she's done before she left the Isle? I bet you don’t. Heh. I bet after this, you're just going to forget everything that’s happened and go back to your happy little life, huh, Kingly?” She taunted._

_Ben shifted the weight between his feet uncomfortably._

_She turned to Evie. "You."_ _The blue-haired girl stepped back, her face etched in pure guilt. “You should know very well. I hope you didn’t forget because that’d be a **shame.** ” She emphasized her last word, nearly hissing it out. Doug, Evie’s boyfriend came up and hugged her protectively. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders as Evie held her breath, trying not to crack. When Uma turned, Evie almost fell under the heavy tension in the air. Uma went back to Mal, whose eyes were now starting to flicker green. Mal started to get to her feet, and her right eye was starting to swell up. Her nose was bleeding. There was a red ring around her neck where Uma choked her._

_“You get to come to Auradon, plan to destroy it, have a half-assed change of heart and live here happily? Did you honestly think these people would fucking welcome you with open arms? That you could forget where you came from?” She marched up to Mal and grabbed a handful of her hair. “HUH?!” She yanked on it as water stained the corners of Mal’s eyes._

_“Let go of me, you’re gonna- OW!”_

_Uma yanked her hair again, throwing Mal’s face into the floor. There was a CRACK -- which was Mal’s nose - most likely fractured by now. “Nope, no fucking chance, bitch. Don't you remember how the Isle works? You do, don't you?_ _” With that, Uma dragged Mal by her hair, again ignoring her screams._

_“Let me go!”, “Uma, Stop!”, and other similar cries fell on deaf ears._

_Uma made it back to the railing, with a smirk on her lips. “Remind me of somethin’.” She said, still yanking Mal’s hair, forcing her to stand on her feet. “You can’t swim, can you?” But before Mal could say something, Uma pushed her overboard._

_“NO!” Roared Ben. He broke out of the protective hold of his parents and ran to the railing where Mal was falling, only to see her sink into the water below. Worry, concern and fear had him frozen. He could only watch as Mal flailed around, trying to stay afloat. ‘She can’t swim, she can’t swim, she can’t swim.’ Was all that he thought. ‘She’s gonna di-’ No, he couldn't think that way about her like that. He tried to move himself, but he couldn’t. He was frozen to his spot, unable to act._

_Was he scared?_ _Was this terror?_

_Uma casually sat upon the railing and put her legs over it. She didn’t even give the King so much as a backwards glance. Uma dramatically threw back her head and cackled loudly, the necklace glowing more and more, the yellow-golden light shining around her face like a halo. She extended her arms and then jumped into the water below, which scared the other VK and students. There was no more noise, and for a while, everyone had thought that this was it._

_It wasn’t._

_As Mal began to sink underwater, a whirlpool appeared, taking in her body. It swirled around, upwards towards the sky, almost towering over the yacht with a familiar yellow-golden glow in the middle. Everyone now watched in awe, but still wary. The water had then burst like how a bubble would, splashing everyone violently. The rain stopped. Ben, who was closer to the railing than anyone else was flown back due to the force of it, sliding across the boat on his back, landing next to his parents. His father had a protective arm around his wife, and when it was safe to look, helped Ben up. The water now revealed a larger-sized Uma who was again cackling. The braids on Uma’s head felt more heavier than before since her entire body was drenched in water in addition to the rain from earlier._ _She held a limp Mal that looked half dead. Ben and the students gasped, fearing the worst, but Mal proved to still be conscious somewhat..._

 _She coughed up water violently, wrapped up in one of Uma’s tentacles._ _Uma held her up for all of the Auradonians to see. Mal coughed again, trying to regain air in her lungs. Looking around, (with her good right eye), she looked confused. Her green eye settled on Ben and by the look on his face, could tell that she wasn’t in a good situation._

_‘Ben…’ Mal thought._

_Again, she felt the uncomfortable feel of what she associated with 'softness', and mentally kicked herself for being weak, for being emotionally vulnerable again, this time, with an audience. This time, Mal couldn’t slip on her mask, couldn’t run away._

_Mal closed her eyes, and focused her magical energy outwards from every pore of her body. Even if her mother had told her that she hated her, the truth was that a small part of her knew. She knew all along - but still, she was her mother, and that meant that her legacy, Maleficent's magic ran through her veins.. She winced in pain because her swollen eye hurt, her nose felt like it was broken, and she was bleeding._ _Mal was struggling and Ben and said her name - but it was so soft that even he didn’t hear it. Dark purple smoke began to surround Uma’s tentacle, slipping out of it with ease. Soon after, the dark purple smoke materialized into wings, and a screech was unleashed._

_Talk about deja vu._

_Jay watched the scene unfold with mild interest, his arms wrapped around himself since he was slightly cold from being pelted and drenched in rainwater. Evie, who was still in the safe arms of Doug buried her face into his shoulder. She had began shaking, unable to watch anymore. Carlos was frozen in fear, as the smoke was no more, revealing a purple dragon with green eyes. He heard a shiver from behind him, which made him turn around and instantly scurry over, hugging Jane, who was tearfully afraid._

_Uma waved Mal over._ _“I’ve been waiting six years, bitch!”_

_With that, the dragon opened its mouth to launch a fireball at Uma, which made contact with the water. It missed Uma by a few inches, and that made the sea witch smirk. “You don’t even know how to aim!” Uma said through laughter, as if she was enjoying this._

_But then her expression soured in realization… Her enemy was a girl who had prided herself on being the baddest girl on the Isle, the most wicked....who didn't even know how to use magic. Mal clearly had no experience at all, and it felt like she wasn’t even trying. She scowled, remembering the years of torture, of embarrassment, of abuse, trauma that Mal had caused, by making her feel like she was less than; like she was small. ‘Never again.’ Uma thought._

_A flip was switched, and again, pure anger threatened to consume Uma's reasoning. With a swipe of her hand, a tentacle lashed out, striking Mal across the face. The dragon screeched in pain, flapping its wings fiercely. It dove at Uma, but missed again as she was smart enough to duck. Again, one of Uma’s tentacles lashed out, this time grabbing a hold of Mal’s tail. With two more tentacles, she grabbed one of Mal’s wings. The two tentacles had a death grip on her, and in a turn of unexpected events; began to_ **_rip_ ** _the wing from the body. A very loud, painful scream left the dragon’s body. It tried to free itself, but the octopus was stronger, much stronger than she’d expected. A bone could be seen sticking out of the place where the wing was connected to the dragon’s shoulder blade. Dark red, almost black blood seeped out of the wound; scales coming undone. The dragon’s skin was accompanied an uncomfortable ripping sound which made all of the Auradonians cover their ears and shield their eyes. The dragon continued screaming in pain, until the entire wing was torn off. Uma threw it somewhere into the ocean and again, the sea witch cackled at her archenemy's pain, satisfied. The tentacle that was around Mal’s tail gripped it tightly, throwing her into the sky. Uma let out a victorious evil laugh as Mal became surrounded in the same dark purple smoke from earlier._

_“MAL!” Ben found his voice. He ran from the protective wall that was his father once again, and clumsily ran towards the center, where she was falling. He stretched out his arms, the dark purple smoke clearing. A girl emerged from it, with an even bigger swollen, black eye, covered in brushes across her face and a huge gash on her back. Mal’s dark blood stained her now purple dress and hair. “Mal?” His eyes searched for life, any form of life. Her finger twitched, and Ben’s ever so pounding heart was able to relax, even for a second._

_\---_

_On the Isle of the Doomed:_

 

_“HAHA!” Harry Hook, son of Captain Hook cackled proudly. “That’s our Captain for ye! Rip her a new one, Uma!” The rest of Uma’s pirate crew, the Lost Revenge also cheered for her, seeing how Uma punched Mal in the face and choked her. He wore a wide grin at seeing his goddess of a Captain on the screen, and more praises tumbled out of his mouth._

_“Hey, pirate boy - Shush.” A girl who was the complexion of dark brown clay, with neon-green eyes leaned forward, a smirk on her face. “She’s not done yet,” the daughter of Scar said, green eyes eagerly watching Uma drag Mal around on the boat and eventually overboard._

_Harry lost his shit when Mal went underwater, flailing for her life._

_Sauda joined in the laughter, holding her arm over her stomach. “Oh shit, she actually did it!” She laughed so hard that she had to put her arm on Harry’s shoulder to keep herself from falling out of her chair._ _Usually when people touched him without permission, it would result in them getting hooked, but since the two actually knew each other, she, aside from Gil and Uma (and sometimes other crew mates depending on what day it was), were safe to touch him. Harry actually gave her a look of mild concern, or what should have been at least, because he was still laughing, himself._

_“So that’s her other daughter, huh? What a shame… Look at that disgusting display of false pride.” A man said from behind the children. He looked disappointed. He was expecting more of a fight - then again, Mal was from the union of a fairy and a human.. So he shouldn’t have expected much to begin with. The man’s daughter looked up at him,_

_“Aw, c’mon daddy. Don’t be so harsh,” she joked. “Besides, she’s not even trying. I could do that in my sleep,” she pointed out arrogantly, a twisted smirk gracing her features. A hand gently rested atop the girl’s head._

_“Why, of course. You’re my daughter. Very powerful magic runs through your veins, Nereza.” Chernabog told her. That pretty much was easy to tell, with what their matching eye expressions, dark skin tones, and manner of speaking (to an extent). “Though I can’t help but to wonder if this is really all that weakling has...” He commented, watching Uma become the sea-goddess that Harry and her crew knew her as. (They cheered loudly, chanting, “We Ride With the Tide!”; their battle cry, while Vice wiped a tear from her eye from laughing so hard. She put her fist into the air and yelled_ **_“Ushindi!”_ ** _\- which was Swahili for Victory)._

_“Does it matter?” The girl batted her eyelashes at her dad. Nereza giggled, with a hand over her mouth. “She’s gonna die soon anyway,” she shrugged. “There can only be one of us, and life doesn't favor the weak.” At that, Chernabog smirked back at his spawn, his hand now resting on one of her shoulders._

_“Hey, Nezzy, look!” Sauda exclaimed. “She’s tearing a wing off!” The dark-brown skinned girl said, excitedly tapping Nereza’s knee. Nereza tore her attention away from her father to look at the beat up old television that somehow worked. Both girls watched in sadistic glee hearing the screams of Mal as Uma viciously used her tentacles to separate the wing from its body. Nereza clapped excitedly, practically bouncing in her chair. Harry_ _laughed maniacally while Sauda came in her pants._ _The thirteen members of Lost Revenge shouted nothing but praises for Uma._

 _Chernabog, himself had to chuckle because_ **_damn._**

_There was a smile on Nereza's face as she stared back at the screen in front of them all that replayed the events, a live television feed of sorts. One of the pirate crew members asked how and why the event was still being televised (It was Gil), and he was told because “Auradon doesn’t know how to duck from media attention, little prissy bitches" by Jonas, with a cynical laugh. Harry agreed, since it seemed to make sense. With a small laugh, “Nezzy” shook her head, also silently agreeing. She was close to Uma, and some of the other crewmates, so she was no stranger to their harsh opinions about Auradon. She appreciated their savageness, their bluntness._

_It felt so comfortable, like home._

_But as she looked at the screen, she realized something. Mal’s face, upon being defeated was satisfying to see. But she knew it’d feel much more satisfying when she would kill her with her own two hands._

_‘Soon, Mal… we’ll meet soon.’ She thought to herself, her eyes briefly glowing a solid green._

_\---_

Remembering the ordeal flared up Mal’s stress, and subsequently reawakened the pain in her right eye - the one that Uma punched. It healed rather quickly with her magic. Despite the use of it being frowned upon, she just couldn’t find it in her to give it up, which was why she still had her spell-book, and Evie, her magic mirror. (It took lots of pleading and ass-kissing to _keep_ both items, mind you. And Mal hated every second of it). That aside, the pain would flare up from time to time when she least expected it, and her mind would go down memory lane. She sighed softly to herself, rolling to her left side, curling up into a ball. _‘Things can’t possibly get worse, so I guess I shouldn’t mope..’_  

If only it was that easy…

“Mal?” Evie called, making the VK sit straight up. “Ben called a meeting. --He told me to come and get you.”

“He did? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She inquired, her face scrunching up in confusion. Though she was glad that Evie was finally here, she didn’t show it outwardly. She shook her head, putting her vulnerable self away. The mask snapped into place. Throwing her legs over the bed, Mal pulled something out of a drawer and took out a plain band-aid and applied it to her thumb. (She’d forgotten that it was bleeding a little. Mal was always forgetting something).

“We did. You weren’t paying attention,” Evie pointed out with a hand on her hip.

“...” Mal merely looked at Evie questioningly, but shook her head. "Fine. Whatever." The two girls very lightly sprinted out of their dorm room and hurried down the corridors. A huff, a puff, and twenty five minutes later, the girls arrived in the meeting room which was located in on the right side of the main entrance on the second floor.

“Mal, Evie!” Ben clapped his hands together, shooting Mal a smile. The two girls took a seat near Carlos.

“So all of us are here… Now what?” Carlos asked, petting Dude, the campus mutt’s head. (He’d gotten close to the dog, so Dude was practically his, now). Dude set his head on top of his paws, nuzzling his head against Carlos’ palm.  Ever since the truth gummy wore off, he hasn’t been able to talk anymore. Although, he would miss his dog's cute voice, Carlos was mostly glad - at least he didn’t have to deal with teaching his dog how to “shut up”.

"..." Jay sat at the back. The brown-haired boy had his hands into his pockets. Jay kept to himself, even after the whole “almost-being-barbecue” and Uma situation. Come to think of it, _none of them_   were really close to each other in the first place... Except maybe Carlos and Evie. 

“Now, I know what you’re thinking. It’s been awhile since I’ve made good on my promise. _But_ , despite recent events, I still intend to keep bringing over more kids for integration. I've talked to Evie about it, and I'd like to announce them before they arrive! Just so that there's no surprises.” Ben took out a piece of paper from the inside of his coat, looked it over, then looked at the four of them. "Is that okay with you all?"

“Just get on with it.” Jay contributed at last. 

"I think it's okay," Carlos shrugged. 

"Sounds fair," Evie nodded. 

Mal shrugged. 

...Ben took that as a yes, anyway. With a smile, he announced, “The daughter of Scar. Vice, it says." 

“...Seriously?” Mal glared at him.

“Is there something wrong?”

“ _Yes,_ something is wrong!”

 Evie looked in between Mal and Ben in confusion. "...I don't get the problem." 

"Who even is that?" Carlos asked. "Do we know her?" 

Jay silently glared at Ben from the back. _‘... Eight months. It took you eight months.’_ One of his hands curled up into a fist. An intrusive thought entered his head to punch Ben's face in, and with how much Jay disliked him, he had to physically hold his trembling fist to make sure he didn't go through with it. He closed his fist around his thumb and chewed on the inside of his mouth to avoid saying anything... After Cotillion was over, he had Evie approach him, asking if he knew anyone that needed to be over here. His response and thoughts swirled around one person... and it was her. 

His girl. 

“Why? Why _her,_ of all people?”

Ben was confused, (as much as Evie and Carlos were, to boot), but figured that she’d act this way..

Evie warned him that there were some people that she’d have a strong reaction to.

He was hoping that she was wrong, but nope.

“Listen Mal, I don’t know what happened between you and her - but ...what about the other kids on the Isle? Am I supposed to leave them there and let them sufferjust because you have a problem with one or two of them? What kind of a King would I be if I did that? Besides, how am I supposed to know what bad history you have with people if you refuse to open up about it?”

“Maybe I just don't want to talk about it!?” Mal said, fiercely smacking Evie’s hand away when she tried to comfort her.

The girl with blue hair flinched and held her hand, a look of hurt painted on her face. She looked over to Carlos, who looked like as shaken as he did back back at Coronation. He was trying to fight it though - which was something that Evie noted, in the way that he steadily breathed in and out. A method that he learned from the Internet, while searching for something unrelated. Evie strode over to him and placed a soft hand on Carlos’ back. They walked out of the room quietly.

“....I know, but you don't have that kind of power, Mal,” Ben countered. “Evie is my royal adviser, _not you_. Which means she makes the list and only I can approve it. It was her idea, the list of kids, actually. So I don't exactly get why you're yelling at me as if I made the list myself..”

“I'm yelling at you, because what are you thinking?! Are you _stupid?!_ First, you go to the Isle and get yourself kidnapped by Uma and her crew, then you want to announce more VKs, and to make it worse, the daughter of a looney?!” Mal’s voice had reached a high pitch tone and it cracked.

At that point, the boy in the dark beanie glared at the back of Mal's head. (Apparently in the midst of their squabble, they forgot Jay was in the room). He was tempted to speak up and make her _repeat_ what she just said to make sure he heard right, but decided to stay in his spot. Another intrusive thought entered his mind - one where he took a nearby tool, something, anything - maybe even a pencil, and jam it into the side of her neck. The voice in his head taunted him, _goaded_ him, and he very much wanted to see the light leave her miserable wonky light fixtures for eyes.

He bit down on his lip hard, probably a bit _too_ hard because he drew blood.

He hated her, hated her guts, but mostly he hated the way she talked about his own. _Nobody_ talked about _his girl_ like that. Some of his fingers tapped against his bicep as his body tensed. One half of him wanted to rage, to fight, to _kill,_ but somehow, maybe the logical side of him, kept the raging snake inside of him at bay. _For now._

“Mal, please. Stop making such a big deal out of it. What did she do to you to make you act like this?”

“I'm not talking about it.”

“Then how am I supposed to help you?” Ben said, frustrated with her. He buried his hands in his face. He sighed. “I swear, I care about you more than you'll ever know but you are giving me _gray hairs_.”

“Pfft, gray hairs? Oh, what am I a _headache_ now?” Mal asked, shoving Ben. “Is the Isle girl too _bad_ for you?”

 _“No, but your breath is,”_ said a voice that sounded awfully like Ben’s. Mal gasped, and placed her hands on her hips.

“Ben, what the--?”

“I didn't say that..” Ben looked up, confused by what she meant. “Mal, I think you're hearing things.”

“Hea- What? Are you saying I'm crazy now?!” Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell has gotten into you?!” Mal turned away from him angrily. Ben reached out and tried to apologize again but was interrupted by Mal’s voice.

_“Don't touch me, you uncircumcised prick.”_

“What the-” Ben took back his hand. “Mal, what the hell? I mean- I- that isn't very nice. You know what, never mind. Forget it.” He was flustered, and obviously a bit embarrassed by that comment.

Plus, how would _she_ even know what he looked like?

They’ve never--.

“....” He didn’t want to accidentally yell at her like he did the first time they argued - which ended up with Mal running away to the Isle. He put his hands up, “I’m gonna go now, alright?”

“I didn't- Ben, wait-” But he already left the room. Mal ran out of the area to try to go after him.

The last person in the room was Jay, son of Jafar. Once the coast was clear, he slowly rose, his eyes menacingly darkened over. “...”

This time, Mal was lucky. Because the next time that she said something out of line, he would get rid of his restrains, and let King Cobra free, no matter what it was.

The next time, he would hurt and kill her.

The next time, Jay, himself would fucking burn down Auradon and it’s pretty little kingdom, with **_Mal inside._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If everyone would be so kind as to drop comments, ask questions, or even so much as leave a kudos, that'd be awfully nice of you all. Please don't be afraid to give us constructive criticism as well. (We want it!)
> 
> Either way, anything y'all do is heavily appreciated! 
> 
> With that said, we will warn you all that the story will now start to deviate from canon/source material at varying intervals; we may keep or change things around to make things flow better, to fit the tone we're shooting for, and etc. 
> 
> Essentially, Secrets of the Isle of the Lost is supposed to be a "realistic", darker, gritty, version of Descendants. We will be exploring dark and disturbing thoughts like motives, thought processes, physical and mental wellness (or un-wellness in some cases). It's mostly centered around the VKs, though. (Might be a different case for Hidden Files, in which everyone is targeted, or whoever the highlight for the chapter is, depending... which makes sense since "Hidden Files" is more background and world-building). 
> 
> Which brings us to the first Author's Note for the chapter!
> 
> The Rotten Four are not friends. This is a decision made by me and my sister when going back to study the 1st movie and prequel book. The reasons why are as follows: 
> 
> *Evie and Mal do not have a "friendship". Mal is the reason why Evie was banished with her mother to the other side of the Isle for 10 years. (Which is essentially solitary confinement but we'll visit that in the story at a future point).  
> *Mal and Jay bullied Carlos. (Mostly Mal, but Jay ain't innocent).  
> *Carlos and Evie actually had a mutual crush thing that turned into friendship that again, was cut short because she was banished for 10 years and came back only for Mal to humiliate her.  
> *Jay is mostly in the background or a bystander. (The 1st movie is guilty of this, hence his expanded and more active role here -- with the most damning evidence of his cynical/solo nature being his one-liners, "You do things your way, I'll do things mine" as well as Jay's nonuniformity in "Rotten to the Core"). 
> 
> And so on. 
> 
> It just happens to make more sense this way for us (and hopefully for y'all since we forgot to explain, oops!). If you don't like this choice, that's fine. We understand. But if you decide to stick around for the story, just keep that in mind as shit hits the fan, and people reveal their true colors...
> 
> Second Author's Note:  
> Dizzy doesn't exist. We apologize in advance if you expected her to pop up anywhere in the story. Truth was, she wouldn't fit in anywhere, and we found her to quite annoying. So for all intents and purposes, Dizzy doesn't exist and isn't a character here. Mal got her hair done instead, by Anthony Tremaine. 
> 
> Most of Descendants 2 either didn't happen, or happened differently.  
> -Queen Ashe and DanayaJasmina.


	3. Chapter 2: "Long Live Evil"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vice is the first of new kids to come to Auradon.
> 
> And she's not impressed. At all.

A black limo pulled into a dark, muddy brown, cobble stoned street. Four men in golden and royal blue uniforms came pouring out, drawing the attention of the shabbily dressed Isle inhabitants. They ignored them, more than already used to the strange stares. These men looked serious and if someone were to look at them closely, it would seem like they didn’t blink at all. They always came in like that; in parties of more than one person. They learned from one specificincident to never send a single person by themselves.

So they never did again.

In the eyes of King Adam, the prison island was filled with hostile, highly aggressive people who needed to be “disciplined”--no _instructed_ on how to fear him --oops, “on how to be _good_ ”.

Hence the 'monthly' reports to the Isle and using force “if necessary”.

In the eyes of the Auradonian guards, the people of the Isle were interesting in their own way. But not interesting enough to be seen as people with rights.

“Back away!” One guard said, holding up a taser gun. Someone had made the mistake of getting too close, and now had the gun pointed in their face. It looked like a young brown person, no older than fifteen, but the guard did not care. The child, with scared knobby knees stayed where they were, not to be rebellious but due to the fear of the weapon they've never seen before. “Did you not hear me? Don't you speak English?” The guard said, now a bit irritated. “ _I said get back!_ ” He pressed the button which produced a spark that spooked the child back into the 'worried' arms of their apparent parent or guardian, _maybe_. The adult holding the child glared up at the guard, cursing at him.

The guard put their gun away, and continued walking. Many profanities and curse words that would have made _the Lost Revenge_ blush were thrown at the party of four as they walked by, indirectly clearing a path to their destination; to the new Villain Kid that they reluctantly had to bring.

Meanwhile:

A girl had just finished packing. She closed her suitcase, and grabbed the handle, taking it off of her mattress. _(It was a stolen gift for her by a certain thief)._ Her green eyes looked over at her mattress, and her blanket. She never had a pillow (or wanted one), but the mattress and blanket was more than enough. Her free hand touched the soft, fuzzy brown and yellow blanket that she usually slept on. _‘I’m gonna miss this thing.’_   She thought to herself. Sauda was never sentimental, or placed value on tangible items, mostly because she knew that things like this could be taken away or destroyed within an instant, but she couldn’t help but to get attached (at least in her own little way), to the little things that she was able to get her hands on. It made her feel accomplished.

It made her feel like the Isle wasn’t a complete hellhole (even if it was).

The blanket was also a stolen gift for her - customized, too. When she asked _him_ how, he merely told her that he “knew” people, and gave her that usual look he would get in his eyes when he did something notably wicked…

Great Ancestors, _she missed those eyes of his especially_. (And his face-- can't forget his face, she also missed _sitting_ on it when they knew she shouldn't have been. Then again, they were both rebels). 

She stood there for a few moments, having an internal debate.She decided to try anyway. Sauda delicately took the ends of the blanket and folded it up. Then she did it again and again until it was a sizable square that she could fit in her suitcase and opened the case again, put the blanket in, pressed the case down and zipped it all the way.

“I’m leaving now! Are you coming to see me off or not?” She peeked her head out of her room. There was a small silence then,

“I’ll be there.”

Soon enough, he stepped out of his room. Upon hearing his footsteps, she carried her suitcase off of her bed, and walked out of her own room, ending up in the living quarters of the run-down apartment. The teenager didn't have to wait long, because her father shortly arrived in the living room. He was 6’0”, and had the same complexion as her: dark brown clay. His eyes were neon-green, and he was lean and slender. There was also a horizontal thin pink scar which started under his eyebrow and ended at the beginning of his cheekbone on the left side of his face, which matched his daughters' scar. He had a mane of black, tightly twisted hair that was slightly curly with little trinkets that were fashioned to remind him of the Pridelands.

“Aw, look at you all grown up, ready to topple kingdoms and cause mayhem,” he cooed in the voice he would use when she was a toddler. It wasn’t in a condescending or overly sarcastic manner, for _once_. 

"I’ll topple all the kingdoms in your place and then some.” She smirked. Scar laughed lightly.

He barely laughed nowadays, if it all-- so when she was able to make it happen, it made her feel accomplished.

It would make her feel more accomplished if this wasn’t one of few times that he was sane enough to do so, much less look her in the eye... 

Scar slung his arm around the girl's shoulders. She let herself lean into her dad’s arm, scrunching her nose up at the scent that rolled off of him; of fish oil and hair grease. It would be the last time that she would see him in a while, but she wasn't torn up about it. It was only a matter of time anyway. If anything, she was reminded of how fragile and temporary everything in her life had been until she met Uma. Nereza. Jay… 

Nothing is forever, until it is.

“When Auradon falls, it'll be broadcast for all to see.”

Again, Scar laughed - feeling a surge of pride as they walked towards the door of their home. “I know you will, Sauda. I can’t wait to see the look on that little boy’s face when you destroy everything he loves right under his nose.” Scar said, holding his chin up high. He sensed the change in the air around her. He could smell her determination. It pleased him. 

“I’ll make sure to _completely_ crush him and his spirit.” She said, her eyes narrowing some. “His father, _too. Anyone and everyone..._  that gets in my way.” Her right hand balled up into a fist.

“Temper,” Scar joked sarcastically. “Don’t want you to get all tightly-wound up before you even get there, do we?” His voice was just as smooth and controlled as he was when he was a lion. “Just remember that daddy’s watching. And that he’s proud of you.” With that, Scar opened the door, embracing the chilly air of the outside. He continued without a jacket, since the walk wouldn’t be long - the guards were already outside, waiting. As the two groups met halfway, Scar glanced at them up and down. One of the guards tensed up, and Scar saw it. He smirked.

“I  _already_ smell the fear on you, sight for sore-eyes,” he sneered, inwardly gagging over the poor color scheme choice. “At ease, you overdressed _meathead_.” He stressed the last part, making his disdain known towards the guard, the same one that threatened an Isle kid earlier. Under Scar’s bored, uninterested gaze, Sauda could see that ‘Meathead’ was uncomfortable. A nod from another guard standing next to ‘Meathead’ allowed him to relax.

A guard coughed. This one had short blonde hair and looked a bit wary of being so close, but he had a job to do. He cleared his throat. “Are you the one that is called ‘Vice’?” The girl nodded, resisting the urge to give him a sarcastic answer. Scar threw a glare at the guard upon hearing the girl's well-known nickname.

He didn't like the way he said it -- nor did he like the _name_ , but it was something he had no control over. It was a nickname she earned while fighting, killing and causing “hell” over the years.

Ignoring the glare, the guard proceeded with the procedure. “Then, _‘Vice’_ of the Isle, you have been formally invited into Auradon.” He had a scroll in his hand, and handed it over to her. Vice took the scroll and read it over. She gave it to her dad to read, which he did. After he was done, he grunted and tucked it under his arm. One guard was about to say something but Vice cut in before he could.

“He’s walking me to the limo. Anyone has a problem with that?”Her cat slit eyes glared at all of them; daring them to say something. It could have been the way that her eyes were dull, almost _dead_ , or the intimidating way that her lips twisted into a scowl with her surprisingly white teeth and fangs showing (she took good care of herself whenever possible), but they said nothing. Some guards at the back looked disgusted, and even muttered something.

 _(She heard one of them say “she’s probably a cannibal with those chompers. Fuck outta here.”_ along with some words in another language that she couldn’t really make out - though it sounded a bit like French... Most of the guards that came over to the Isle spoke it).

She flashed them a sly smirk and continued the walk. _"Good._ You all aren’t as stupid as you fuckin' look. Now let’s go.” With that, Vice and Scar began walking back, surrounded on all sides by the Auradonian guards. As they were walking, Scar dug into the pocket of his left side in his dark brown _dashiki_ and closed his hand over an item. When he brought it out, he bent down and whispered in Vice’s ear,

“A little parting gift _._ ”

The girl looked up to see that her dad closed his hand over hers. She was about to question him, but he only straightened himself up and grinned a lion’s grin. “Don’t look or open it until you get there,” he winked. “It’s a secret.” Vice got the memo and instantly put it in the front pocket of her torn jeans. She didn’t know what it was, but it had to be special if her dad wanted to look at it only when she got to Auradon. (Not like she was going to wait in the first place-- rebel, remember?) But it did feel like jewelry. After that, the rest of the trip was quiet - save for the frightened squirms and squeals of the Isle people when they saw the Auradon guards and the weird stares they were getting. _‘ I can’t blame them. These fuckers are ugly. I’d stare in horror too if I haven't already seen worse.’_   Vice noted to herself. They passed through the narrow streets, her previous place of residence becoming nothing more but a medium-sized dot. After some more (which felt like fifteen to maybe twenty-five minutes), they finally passed the market. A little ahead of that area was an alley where the sleek, black limo was parked.

With two pleasant surprises. 

She wanted to run to them, but since they were in public, in addition to being in front of the guards, Vice hid her excitement in seeing her two best friends. (Which was way easier than it should have been, considering the girl's permanent resting bitch face). “Y'all came to see me off too?”

“Why wouldn't we?” Nereza inquired, walking up to Vice and grabbing her by the forearm in a handshake while Vice did the same. Uma took the other arm and did the same handshake. 

“We'd be lower than goblin snot if we didn't show up.” Uma smirked. “And that can't happen because we look out for own. Aye?”

Hearing their fierce affirmations made Vice's cold heart melt just a tiny bit. Out of everything in her life... She liked her friends the most.

They weren’t temporary.

They weren’t fragile.

They were here forever, and _they were true_.

While she was -- dare she even say it-- _glad_ , that she was able to get to talk to them… “Aye." She scowled slightly at the realization that she might _miss_ them. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll come in due time.” Uma tried to make her feel better. She could hear the slight dip in Vice's tone. The Pirate Queen fought the urge to frown. She's never seen Vice sad -- upset, _angry_ , even. (Okay, she's mostly seen her angry, and even sometimes Uma felt chills down her spine. She's not proud to admit it). But _never_ sad. (And knowing Vice, this was the _closest_ to the emotion that she'd EVER get).

Knowing her ever since they were both 10 years old... unless stated explicitly, Vice was next to emotionless and that shit sometimes sent chills down Uma's spine more than her _anger_. 

Still, Uma felt the same, even if she'd never say those exact words, because well, those feelings were seen as weaknesses. Something that could get them killed, unless they were scary or intimidating enough to say it boldly and even then, _still_.

“Just focus on the set up and stick to the plan.” She whispered.

“And don’t raise too much hell yet,” Nereza said.

"No promises." Vice raised two fingers and crossed them. "That's all I can say," Vice shrugged with a faint smirk.

A few moments after, the girls had to separate, since the guards were getting antsy. Uma was five seconds away from saying something, but contained herself. She couldn’t go to Auradon if she ended up impaling one of their men. (Or maybe she could...) She thought dangerously. Nereza was silently glad that Uma didn’t, though she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. Her body language betrayed her poker face, because her hand tightly gripped her side, the way it usually would, when she wanted to hit someone. _Badly_.

The girls walked to Scar’s side, watching Vice go into the car as a guard opened the door for her. Vice’s suitcase went into the trunk. When she was inside, Vice rolled down the car’s window, and waved to her two best friends more than her father. The guards all filed into the car as well, and soon enough, it pulled out, leaving the lot.

The trio stayed and watched as the limo left as it eventually became nothing but a black dot in the distance. Inside of the limo, Vice sat with one leg over the other, her chin resting in her palm. With her other hand, she felt for the necklace in the front of her pants - her fingers wrapping around it. She took it out, a soft gasp leaving her. It was a necklace -- and a pretty one at that. It was in the shape of a lion’s fang on a brown string that had an elaborate design at the top of the teeth that was of a lion’s head in silver. She put it on, it sitting nicely on the center of her chest. She then leaned her head against the car window and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. 

Might as well rest while she can...  

Forty five minutes later:

As the limo lurched to a stop, the daughter of Scar awoke from her light sleep. The girl blinked several times and looked out of the window.

_‘What the fuck-’._

Her face scrunched up in disgust. Everything was so… bright. _Cheery_.

“Ew.”  At least she was _here_. The door opened. She looked up to see people waiting outside. Reminding herself of her mission, Vice slid herself down the seat, placing one foot firmly on the ground outside, then the other. A hand rested on the limo’s door, then the other hand rested on the outside of the car. The last thing to emerge was her head, her eyes staring straight ahead. The young woman emerged fully from the car, taking a second to take in the new scenery. _‘Too much sun… Ugh.’_ She put a hand over her eyes, and reached for something on the inside of her jacket pocket. She produced a pair of silver shades with round, dark lenses and slipped them on, throwing her locs over a shoulder.  _'That's better.'_   Her brown leather covered feet took her closer to the woman in blue and pink, stopping short of just a few feet. Vice folded her arms over her chest.

“Hello,” she managed after a minute of trying to figure out what to say, clearly hesitant to interact with yet another VK.

Vice wore a patchwork brown leather coat with dark fur, black sleeves, and claw marks on the shoulders and back, a torn t-shirt with a lion’s head in the center and dark blue leather jeans. She made a disgusted face at Fairy Godmother as if to say _‘Why are you talking to me, peasant?’._

The woman must have been affected by the intimidating stare because she stuttered. “You must be uh, 'Vice', heh.” She laughed nervously. It was clear to Vice that Fairy Godmother was wary.

_Good._

The woman wasn't a complete idiot, then. “Bippity boppity,” she muttered. “Um, anyway, Hello there!” She gave the dark-skinned girl a smile, one that Vice did not return. The older woman continued, “Welcome to Auradon Prep. Here, we have some rules--..”

 _‘Boring.’_   Vice drowned her out immediately. She wasn’t going to follow the rules anyway, so why listen? She looked past Fairy Godmother, looking at Carlos first. He was small, but athletic looking. She knew that he was an athlete thanks to Jay’s letters. She didn’t have any opinion on him. _(She was still surprised to find that he found a way to even send them -- let alone keep it a secret that there was a small hole in the barrier, small enough for a tiny bird to squeeze through and deliver them)._ Next, her eyes traveled to Evie. She smiled at Vice, and even waved but stopped when Mal shot her a look of betrayal. This amused Vice, making her laugh a little bit. _‘Aw, well isn’t that precious. She’s trying to be nice._ **_Ew_** _.’_ She noted. Then her eyes went to Mal. Her lips didn’t part but under her breath, a soft growl was released. _‘Can’t wait to see you die, bitch.’_ With a calm breath, her eyes finally settled on Jay. (Again, she had to hide her excitement in seeing someone she actually gave a shit about). 

Jay most likely was thinking the same thing, because he had been staring at her.

_Of course he was._

_Shit,_ was his gaze always _that_ intense...?

Her lip twitched up in a devious smile and she chuckled. If she waited eight months to see him, she could wait a few more minutes. (Or that's what she told herself, when really all she wanted to shove her tongue down his throat--).

With a longing sigh, she turned her eyes to Fairy Godmother, done with mentally torturing herself. _For now._  Vice decided to tune back in to Fairy Godmother.

“.....the library hours are from 8:00 am to 9:30 pm. Curfew is at 10. Now, I know that you probably don’t know this but I’m really strict on curfews, so please try to not wander out of your dorms past that time, okay dear?” The woman's smile and tone of voice sounded forced.

"I'm not your dear." She coldly regarded. "But sure, I guess."

After that, Fairy Godmother nodded, going elsewhere. (And she seemingly looked relieved to do so). The limo also pulled away from the royal golden and brown road leading into the school, disappearing into the school’s parking lot. Watching the car leave, Vice was almost surprised when she heard a new voice. It belonged to a boy who was fair skinned and had on a royal blue blazer. He also wore a crown and had a small smile on his face. Smoothing out his suit, he looked a little nervous.

“Um, hello,” Ben said, a bit awkwardly. He patted down his sleeves, clearing his throat. 

Her cold eyes found his ever so slightly flustered face, and she swore that he might have even faltered at her gaze. She slipped her shades back up. 

“Erm, Vice, right?”

“So articulate.” A very sarcastic response that made Ben laugh a little.

“I- Sorry- I’m not.. I’m still not used to this whole thing.”

“Pretty girls or _actually talking to them?_ ”

“Both?” He offered as a joke.

Vice didn’t laugh. That made him sweat. _‘I’m probably not formal enough.’_ Immediately, he stuck out his hand. “King Benjamin. I welcome you personally to Auradon Prep.” He said, sticking his chest out. ‘... _I hope that wasn’t too much.’_

 _'Insecure, and awkward.'_ She put her left hand on her hip. He'll be way too easy to break.... “I don’t do handshakes.” Vice said bluntly. “I can also smell your nervousness. Lioness’ nose.” She tapped her nose with her right hand.  She walked closer to him and patted his shoulder condescendingly. "Stop trying so hard. We’re around the same age. _Loosen up_.” She said the last part slowly, her mouth making a _POP_ sound. She brushed past him, knocking his shoulder with hers, walking up to where the VKs were.

Mal glared at Vice. She'd actually been glaring ever since the girl came out of the car. Though, as Vice passed by, she could tell that it wasn't her usual glare, it was loaded with uncertainty and cautiousness. The daughter of Maleficent didn't dare say anything, lest her mask run the risk of cracking ever so slightly, but Vice still heard her mutter something about thinking about being attacked by her. Vice only giggled to herself, moving her eyes elsewhere. She wouldn't even dignify that spawn with a response if she did muster up the courage to say something.

Her eyes skipped over Evie and Carlos as they had finally remembered her as the girl from months back...

Vice had came up to Jay when they were leaving for Auradon and kissed him. It was clear that they had a thing. But Jay never talked about her... Not even about Jafar, not about what happened to him on the Isle, _none_ of it. He was effectively still a stranger to them. Vice’s eyes lingered on Jay for half a second more. He returned the favor, with his usual flirty grin, but said nothing. He didn’t need to. (Though he wanted to. He hasn’t seen her in _eight fucking months_. There was a lot he wanted to say. Half of those things would get him back sent back to the Isle. The other half, well...  weren’t things that should be said _out loud_ ). Regardless, Vice was the only one that he could talk to with his eyes alone.

And body language.

 

_\---_

Fifteen minutes later:

“Here is the library. Fairy Godmother already told you the rules, so I don't see any need to repeat them. But just in case; library hours are from 8:00 am to 9:30pm. I hope that you can remember your way around the castle. People _do_ end up getting lost in the halls.” 

“No kidding.” As she peeked her head inside the door of the library, she noticed that it was the size of their Tourney field, maybe even bigger. _'You could probably get lost in the damn library..’_ She thought, softly growling at the amount of light coming in through the open windows. It still bothered her -- it was gonna take her some time to get used to. (If she even did). She folded her shades up and put it on the inside of her jacket. She risked a glance up to the other Villain Kids, seeing Mal look particularly unhappy. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her shoulders slumped and her eyes looked away from Vice’s when she felt her staring. Vice’s enhanced hearing picked up Mal even going “hmph”.

_‘...What a fucking kid.’_

Vice turned her head to Ben, rolling her eyes. He continued the tour and for a few moments, she wondered how Ben was even remotely able to put up with her, much less _date_ her. The moment that Vice turned away to look forward again, Mal made a face, turning her hateful eyes towards her, tempted to spell Vice’s hair - but Evie slapped her hand down, giving her a scolding _‘what did we talk about?’_   face. On Mal’s left side, Carlos watched, amazed at how much Mal didn’t like her. On the Isle, he’s never interacted with Vice, so he didn’t really get it, but it was funny to see her so riled up. He thought her beef with Uma was bad enough or  at least the beef she had with Jay (which was openly mutual)... but this really seem one-sided.

On Evie’s side (Mal’s right), was Jay. He kept his hands in his pockets, watching Evie attempt to calm Mal down. He also laughed to himself, but unlike Carlos, he wasn’t surprised. Besides -- if Vice and Mal were to really fight, he’d know Vice would knock her ass out without even trying.

Or kill her. _(The thought of her clawing Mal to shreds was pretty entertaining to him, so he also chuckled darkly to himself)._

_And better Vice, than him._

_He'd eviscerate her, if Mal tried anything **ever again**._

Though Vice hated this place already, she had to admit there were a lot of more resources here, especially the internet and the library. Her father prioritized brains and strategy over all - though she also had inherited Mufasa’s strength, (Scar swore she did because she _definitely_ didn't get it from him). 

“This is the cafetaria,” Ben announced with a flourish as the tour continued. Before them was a wide room that had some students lingering in cliques. There were tables and plates of freshly baked pastries which included fruit, sugar cookies shaped like little animals, a chocolate fountain, cupcakes, cranberry sauce, as well as other treats. “Feel free to take one!” He threw in enthusiastically. Vice has never seen these things with her own eyes, so obviously she had questions.

_“What the fuck is this?”_

“Sugary treats. I understand that you don’t have these on the Isle so I’d thought it’d be nice to something tasty for a change,” he added with a hopeful smile, sounding more confident than he felt.

“...What the fuck is sugar?” She inquired, pointing to one of the sugar cookies that was in the shape of a dragon. She poked it with a dark green fingernail. It was soft, and smelled “nice”. Her eyes looked to Ben, who looked confused. “Ugh, for ancestor's sake.” She groaned in exasperation. “--These things. Are these even _safe_ for someone from the Isle to even eat? I’ve got to give it to you, you’ve really fuckin’ outdone yourself here. It’s almost enough to make me laugh.” Vice picked up the cookie, green eyes looking it over. She tore the head off the dragon with her right hand, crushing and rolling it around in her palm.

Mal looked offended, sure that it was a subtle threat.

Carlos and Evie looked at each other, while Jay seemed to be amused, still. (He also might have swiped a thing or two from an unsuspecting student while watching the scene unfold before him. Old habits never go away).

Meanwhile, Ben still didn’t seem to follow. “I’m sorry, what’s ....funny?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

She smiled, showing her fangs again. “How you fatten yourselves up here with candies and sweets while little children on the Isle are dying from food poisoning.” Vice stated casually, looking at the mess of dough that used to be a dragon’s head in her palm. She squeezed it, and let it fall onto the platter of other sugar cookies, throwing the rest of the dragon cookie’s body into the nearest trash bin. She smacked her hands together, cat eyes watching the new King’s reaction. 

Ben looked _flabbergasted_. "Um..."

She dropped her smile, showing that it was empty. “This is practically a luxury castle, while we’re living in slums full of half-assed buildings, and unfinished houses. Some of them don’t even have roofs. Or doors. And then this sad excuse for food-- sorry, _treats._ Like we’re some goddamn animals that should keel over and be proud to get your scraps.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest, golden bracelets lightly clanking each other.

Ben opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. Ben found himself speechless. His face went from surprise, confusion to red from embarrassment, and his smile died right there. He didn’t mean to get on her bad side already.

_Or get a mouthful._

He was glad that the other Villain Kids were there, though he was learning very quickly that it wasn’t going to save him. Even though he just met her, his nervousness and anxiety told him that this girl would and _could_ kill him, if she truly wanted to. Which served to make him more nervous... He risked a glance over to the other VKs and when the Villain Kids only looked at him in silence, his heart jumped into his throat. So not only did he manage to _offend her already_ \-- he was indirectly rubbing what the Isle didn’t have _in their faces._ _‘Great. I’m off to a good start,’_ he thought bitterly to himself. Ben swallowed hard. _‘Dad, what did you do?’_ Ben asked himself, pursing his lips, trying to think of what to say. His eyes fluttered and blinked rapidly, and he looked to Vice who looked at him like he was honestly _stupid_ for not knowing what she just told him. *It didn't help that he actually felt stupid as well). 

“I know this probably won’t mean anything, but I honestly really am sor-”

He was cut off with a hand in his face. “Keep your pity. Don't wanna hear it.” Vice scoffed. “If you really wanted to, you could have supplied aid to the Isle instead of y’know… taking us from our prison home to bring us into another one.”

“Now, hey wait a minut-”

But he was again cut off, this time by a harsh laugh. “What, are you really gonna stand here and tell me Auradon _isn’t_ basically rehab for all of us? Because we’re villain kids? We’re evil, raised by villains-- so it's _fair_ , isn't it?,” she chuckled. “I mean, _I am a villain,”_ she put a hand on her chest, throwing her black locs over a shoulder. “--but that’s besides the point,” she let her eyes drift lazily towards the ‘treats’, not trusting them. She then looked at the group of four behind her. “Am I getting all of that right?” Vice turned her body towards them. “If I’m wrong, I dare any of you to counter me.” There was an awkward, sudden pause. Evie looked visibly uncomfortable and tried to come up with something to say, but closed her mouth because she wasn’t _wrong._ Carlos sucked in air through his teeth. He avoided eye-contact and also said nothing. Jay did a ‘not bad’ face, and put his hands up.

“Sorry, but she’s got a point, Ben.” Jay shrugged his shoulders, but Ben didn’t seem upset that he was agreeing with her. To Ben, Jay was ironically honest for someone of his background. (At least to Ben’s knowledge). Jay put his hands back in his pockets.

Ben never saw it like that. Here he was, trying to make things better - but doing the opposite, which upset Ben. He turned his head to the last person who has yet to answer.

“Mal?” He asked softly.

The daughter of Maleficent didn’t look him in the eye. Mal’s arms were around herself, and she looked down. Mal kicked at the ground beneath her leather covered boot. She finally cracked under the pressure and sighed, looking straight at Ben. “Okay, fine, maybe I did!” Mal shared Evie’s guilty look. “But.. I.. I don’t think that anymore… I think.”

“You _think_?” Ben repeated. He sighed, hanging his head. _‘Fixing the problems on the Isle is gonna be harder than I thought…’_ He realized. When everyone gave their answers, Vice patted one of Ben’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry, it gets worse. Anyway,” she continued, wiping her hand on her pant sleeve after touching him with it. Ben sighed and continued walking, albeit slightly dejected (he tried to not let it show but she could tell, oh, she could definitely tell).

It actually made Vice feel  _good_  that she was able to shatter whatever hope he had without much effort. 

Forty or so minutes later:

The tour of the entire school was finished.

Ben led her to Doug, an adorable yet mousy-looking boy in glasses who was wearing his marching band uniform. Ben clapped Doug’s shoulder gently.

“He’s gonna give you your schedule. If you have uh, any more questions, you can ask him, or have him get me. I would stay, but King duties. Apologies.” Ben said, offering a smile once more. Vice stared him down, not returning it, and the smile died almost immediately again. He awkwardly nodded to Doug, then the other VKs, “You all are free to go or stay as you please. I uh, thank you all for coming along.”

Though, the reason why they did was because he asked them to. Enchantress forbid that they weren’t there and Ben had said something _worse_ and messed up with Vice -- Auradon would probably be down a King. (And she would have been arrested). As Ben left, Vice noted that he was nervous and awkward the whole time; even as he hurried away, she smelled uncertainty on him. He was a weak King indeed, as far as she was concerned. Vice, technically would be royalty, had Simba not come back. And now, since her father was on the Isle, their status equaled _nothing_.

Power. Royalty. _Gone. Just like that._

Nothing was forever until it was. 

...She narrowed her eyes as a scowled graced her face. 

Jay, who was watching her, noticed.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by a meek cough.

“Erm, eh- H-hello. I’m Doug, son of Dopey. You know, seven dwarves?”

Vice blinked, remembering where she was. “Dopey? The one that doesn’t speak? Big ears like Dumbo?” Vice asked with an eyebrow raised. It tumbled out of her mouth like vomit. Unlike most VKs, she actually _paid_ attention in her Evil World History of Villain class back at Dragon Hall for 

Doug’s pale blue eyes widened. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I.. yeah. Him.” He was uncomfortable at the girl's bluntness. (And a bit offended- but he kept that part to himself).

Vice looked him up and down. _‘Even a dwarf can get laid. How fucking precious.’_   She shook her head. “So, my schedule. Gonna cough it up _today_ or...?” Vice inquired, her hand out. Doug searched his person, finding it in the inside of his vest. Vice unfolded the paper and gave it a once-over. She turned around, looking up to see that the VKs had all left; except for one. The boy in the dark blue beanie folded his arms over his chest. He had been staring again. (And might have stolen something from Mal earlier).

Finally. 

The one person she gave a shit about. 

“Hey there.” He decided to go with a simple response - no need to complicate things. They had time to catch up, he figured. And if he didn’t, everything else be damned because _he would make time_.

“Hey yourself, Jaybird,” she smirked.

“Want me to show your dorm room?” He asked, unfolding his arms, sharing a similar smirk to her.

“Sure.”

Jay slid to her side smoothly and slid his fingers into one of her belt loops, pulling her to his side. "Then you'd better stay close to me. Y'know... just in case," he winked. Vice's smirk widened into a grin. She let herself be pulled closer to her boy. (She also might have put her hand in his backpocket to feel his ass. Okay, so she did--). 

He didn’t realize he missed her until then; when he caught a whiff of her natural body scent. (He could never put a finger on what in particular she smelled like, but he was accustomed to it so much that he nicknamed the scent, "home").

Jay's chest hurt. (He knew why, but he ignored it. _Villains didn't miss their partners_. ...Even if they did, because he did, oh so fucking much). 

He twisted his fingers around her belt loops impulsively, so that he didn't have a reason to have her be too far from him. He didn't even think he could handle another month if he had to. He'd rather jump off the roof of the school and die. 

Eight months had been too long. 

Way too long. 

As they walked down the hallway, Vice continued looking all around. There were students who also walked the halls and looked at her oddly. She wasn’t really put off by it. She smiled back at most of them, making sure to show off her sharp teeth - which caused some funny reactions; girls squealed and some gasped in horror, guys' eyes bugged out of their sockets, and sneered with their ugly faces.

It made Jay smirk though, it was a _turn on_ when she was being hostile. ( _Especially_ towards him). 

When she got bored of scaring the students, she started roasting the bright colors -- which Jay had to catch himself from laughing over. (He did eventually chuckle though, into his fist -- She had also missed his laugh. His voice was comforting for her, especially on nights where she couldn’t sleep).

It was a little more apparent that the duo had missed each other a lot. Neither of them even remember the last time they've share a laugh.

Reunited with him, Vice started to feel slightly better and a little less homesick, Until..

“Jaaaaay!”, “Jay!”, “Number Eight!”, along with other variations of those names echoed off the hallways.

Whatever good mood he was in seemed to evaporate in thin air, and Jay's face turned stone. _Golden lamps..._

Vice looked at him, as the group of girls continued yelling his name, as they came down their way. She shot him a questioning look, noticing the whatever joy he had was sucked out of him. The joy that _she_ was the cause of; the joy that _she_ gave him. Her own mood shifted suddenly. 

“‘Number Eight’?” She repeated. 

“Tourney. It’s my number, remember? I wrote about that.”

“...Right.” She looked at him, then glared at the other girls coming their way. She could sense Jay's discomfort from his sudden deadpan voice, his tense, stiff stance and with his hard his face was. "Well... let's give them something to watch, then. It's only fair, right?" Her thumb and index finger grabbed his chin and made him look at her. Jay caught the mischievous look in her eyes and in classic Jay fashion went, 

"Definitely." 

So when the group of girls came close enough, they could only hear one thing - the sounds of their collective hearts breaking. Most of their mouths fell open when Vice made an long, exaggerated moanas their lips aggressively brushed against each other's. Vice's row of teeth yanked on his bottom lip. At that point, the both of them were moaning into each other's mouths, their fingers entangled in the other's hair, arms around each other's bodies. Vice grabbed the collar of Jay's leather vest, one eye open just briefly to looked at the group of girls to see them leave in disgust and hurt.

Neither of them wanted to break the kiss to see if they left, nor did they care at that point-- they were doing it just to do it. Truth was that neither of them cared about what rumors were going to spread. They had everything they wanted in each other, including the truth of who they were, and they were definitely not Auradon-material, nor anything close to it.

Eventually, they did break the kiss to breathe. Satisfied, Vice chuckled to herself and turned around again, continuing to walk. Jay followed closely behind, his arm around her waist still. 

“Do you think they’ll leave you alone now?” Vice asked. As the couple entered the side of the school with the girl’s dormitories, the thief stopped in front of a wooden door.

Jay thought for a moment and clicked his tongue.  

“They better, if they wanna keep being alive." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trivia:  
> About Sauda; 
> 
> "Vice" is essentially a nickname that stuck, as you can see.... 
> 
> Sauda is her birth-name, but this knowledge is privy only to those that she truly, utterly and completely trusts. 
> 
> Anyway, comments, constructive criticism, questions and so on are welcomed as always! 
> 
> References for Languages Spoken: 
> 
> Swahili: 
> 
> Sauda = Vice's birth name. It has multiple meanings such as "dark beauty", "dark skinned/complexioned". It's definition relates to dark skin being beautiful, basically.


	4. Chapter 3: "Queen of White Lies"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next three arrivals;  
> Hadie, Freddie and Jack.
> 
> Oh, and very minor Ben/Mal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:  
> "Isle wave" is a type of music on the Isle of the Lost. It ranges from heavy bass and dubstep to chopped up beats and aggressive rap (usually about overthrowing Auradon, and burning down their kingdom, but not always). It can also be considered the Isle's version of Industrial and EDM music. (It's also a loose term to describe anything that isn't "rock", "metal" or anything hard-hitting and "fast").
> 
> DJ TECHNA: DJ that specializes in techno, electronic, dance and Isle-hop music.
> 
> Fight Night: an event that takes place on the Isle of the Lost every other week in a place called the "Abandoned Warehouse". (It's specifically only one. It's practically a hotspot for most ..."activities" on the Isle, but not all).

A few weeks later:

The trio immediately noticed that there was a shitload of sunlight and groaned.

“Jay and Vice were right, it’s so cheery. It’s ....kinda scaring me.”

The girl’s violet eyes glared out of the window. She played with the ends of her black-gray ombre hair. She stopped to squint, and make her displeasure known by sticking out her tongue and going _“Blegh.”_ Removing the shades that were sitting comfortably on the front of her shirt, she unfolded them and slipped them on; admiring the fact that they heart-shaped, red-orange lenses.

A pair of pale hands moved the headphones that blasted _Isle wave_ in his ears down to around his neck, a track by DJ TECHNA blaring through them.

“Oh my _dad_ ,” the boy’s dark, almost pitch-black eyes blinked. There were heavy, dark circles under them. He made a disgusted face. “…My fucking _eyes._ ” He squinted to see what was out there, putting a hand right above his eyes. The first thing he saw a woman in a blue suit with a pink bow on the center of her shirt. He followed the girl's suit, putting on a pair of rounded, dark blue shades. “Is that her? She looks like one of those fat trolls back at Troll Town,” the boy quipped, a small chuckle escaping him.

The light olive-skinned boy leaned forward in his seat, honey brown eyes also looking out of the car window. He scoffed. “I think she looks more like a busted pumpkin. With mouth and hair,” he replied. Jack ran his hand through his semi-thinning, short, dark fiery-red hair with lighter red strands towards the ends. Following suit, he fished through the inside of his jacket and took out his shades to put on; the aviator type with dark-red tinted lenses.

The boy with dark eyes went _‘pfft!’_ before breaking out into laughter, holding his arms around his stomach. The red haired boy and the brown-skinned girl joined in soon after - the limo becoming filled with malicious laughter and subsequent sighs when the laughter died. When the black-haired boy finished, he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “That's cold, Jack.” He then turned to the girl with the violet eyes-- his vaguely mutual associate from the long defunct Anti-Heroes Club... “Ready to step into the other side?” 

“If you are.” The daughter of Dr. Facilier, Freddie, shared a dark expression with her partner and their new found accomplice, Hadie. "I hope someone tries me so I can have an excuse to hex those bitches." 

Jack, the son of the Queen of Hearts adjusted the sleeves of the white, gold and red leather jacket he wore. There was a broken heart emblem on the back of it. "Seconded." 

 _‘I won’t hesitate to burn anyone that gets in my damn way either..’_ His calm face hid his raging anger.  _"Wicked."_ Hadie, the son of Hades and Persephone, drummed his fingers against his blue and gray leather pants in anticipation.

The limo’s door opened, and the trio had climbed out the car. The three of them looked around, and stopped just before Fairy Godmother, King Ben, and the current VKs who were there.

(It was Evie’s suggestion that they be there to welcome the newcomers, but mostly to prevent potential violence).

“Hello," Fairy Godmother began. "You must be Freddie, Jack and Hadie! Welcome to Auradon Prep. Here is what to expect during your enrollment here....”

\---

Earlier that day: 

_Mal fought the urge to roll her eyes. “ **Another** meeting?” _

_She asked, already expecting the worst, since Ben seemed to be the most soft-hearted idiot on Earth. (That, and she was wary ever since the daughter of Scar had arrived. She was expecting for Vice to attack her when she came, but she didn’t... **Yet** ). Mal put her paranoia (or tried to), aside for a few moments. She had to at least pretend to pay attention. So she put down her color pencil, and closed her sketchbook. _

_“Who are you bringing this time?” She sighed externally, blowing some strands out of her hair. Carlos was sitting two chairs away._

_“I’m actually with Mal on this-- not that I don’t like you or anything, but I do have some pieces to design,” Evie said, looking at him apologetically. She sat next to Mal, who looked relieved to be near someone who was on her side for once._

_“I don’t mind,” Carlos said. “I’ve kinda done all my required reading. Twice. I’m actually a bit bored,” the De Vil boy said, a book in hand. He closed it, then put his hands on top of it. Unlike Mal, he gave the King his undivided attention. He was sitting behind Evie._

_Jay again, said nothing much. He was in a chair away from Carlos, his chin resting in his palm. He watched, uninterested, as the other three VKs began to talk among themselves. He gave Ben a shrug._

_Ben cleared his throat and put both hands in front of him in a professional manner._

_“Alright. So the next three; Freddie Facilier, Hadie, and Jack Hearts.” Ben nodded. ‘These names are.. Well, unique, I’d say..’ He noted to himself, nervously chuckling. Ben looked straight ahead at them, watching for their reactions._

_Carlos blinked twice. He didn’t really know any of those people._

_Evie shuddered, thinking about Freddie - no doubt she had preconceived notions about her due to Mal’s influence. (She actually whispered over to her, “Doesn’t she shrink people’s heads?”, “Yeah, she’s freaky.” Mal replied defensively, until she realized something about the last name that was called)._

_Jay slightly perked up at the second name called. His partner-in-crime was picked!_

_(‘Jack Hearts.’ )_

_However, Mal had the opposite reaction. She looked like she was a deer in headlights._

_(‘Freddie Facilier’)._

_The wind was knocked out of her lungs, and she couldn’t breathe._

_(‘Hadie’)._

_The names were familiar, **too familiar** . She remembered. Her mask crumbled slowly as she remembered. Remembered their faces, remembered their pain; the unfortunate teens she had the misfortune of encountering on her crusade to get her mother to see and notice her. She stopped listening to the world around her, as she felt numb. These were the names of people that she thought she left behind on the Isle. She forgot about them. Next, the world seemed to swirl around her, and her eyesight got blurry. She felt lightheaded and like that, the world went black. She fainted on the ground, and had even fell out of her chair._

_The worried cries of Ben, Evie, and Carlos filled the room; (Mal?” “Mal!” “Mal?” “M, c’mon.. Wake up..”)._

_Jay casually stood up and walked over as the other three crowded her. “Chill. Step back, guys.”_

_As they did so, he stepped forward and squatted down; being no stranger to death and what dead bodies looked like. He was a killer after all. With a quick sweep of her face, he learned several things; her light skin was paler than usual, her cheeks were slightly sunken in, and there were bags under her eyes._

_She looked like shit, basically._

_“Well? What’s wrong, Jay?” Evie asked, her hands clasped together over her heart._

_“She’s sick. Needs medical attention,” Jay half-lied smoothly. “She’s probably malnourished.”_

_Evie nodded, scared for her safety._

_(She was also too worried to note how eerily calm he was, giving the evaluation -- all of them were, really)._

_She motioned for Ben to come over, and they both picked her up, which ended up with her getting Mal into Ben’s arms gently. Carlos picked up Mal’s sketchbook, since she dropped it. He looked over to Evie, who only quietly urged him to help by getting her things. He also picked up Mal’s colored pencils and put everything in her bag. He slung it over his shoulder as they took Mal out of the room. His hands were shaking ever so slightly - he’s never seen anyone pass out like that, especially not so suddenly. When he turned on his hell to leave, he noticed that someone haven’t moved yet._

_“You comin’, Jay?”_

_“Hell no.” Jay laughed._

_“...Oh. Right."  He caught the weird, intense gaze in the older boy’s eyes, but said nothing. He remembered that he and Mal weren’t really on the best terms, so he left it alone. "I guess... See ya around?”  He shrugged. With that, the youngest of them remembered something; he went back to the table, got his book, then left._

_A few moments after, Jay left the room himself._

_\---_

_A few minutes later:_

_There was a voice at the other end of the wall; “Long live Evil.”_

_Her enhanced hearing picked up the voice, registering it as Jay. “Evil lives on.”_

_She opened the door for him and he walked inside. She closed the door behind him._ _“Did something eventful happen?”_

_“I guess you could say that,” Jay responded, taking off his beanie and tossing it in a corner of her room haphazardly. It felt good to let the roots of his hair get some air. He walked to one of the beds and plopped down, face-first. Vice followed, and plopped down next to him._

_“Mal fainted.” He said bluntly._

_Vice’s interest was peaked. “Is she-”_

_“Nah, she’ll be fine for now,” Jay admitted begrudgingly. “Sadly.” He laughed._

_Vice’s green eyes ran over his image; noting how tired he looked when he rolled onto his back. She scooted closer to him and placed her hand at the top of his head, her fingernails lightly scratching at his scalp. His eyes closed shortly afterwards, and for a little while, there was nothing but the rise and fall of his chest and his heartbeat. And hers. He breathed out from his nostrils. He felt comfortable there…_

_Safe._

_At home…_

_"You're so tense, Jaybird. Why don't you try to chill?" Vice whispered, leaning over to kiss him at the base of his neck, where his tattoo was. He shivered ever so slightly at the contact. (He missed that too it seemed). “It won’t matter soon because she’ll die.”_

_She then tucked some of his brown hair behind his ear. He exhaled from his nostrils again, and opened his eyes, finally feeling truly relaxed. She always had that effect on him. Her voice sounded determined, absolute, strong and fierce, like it had always been. He reached up and touched one of her locs, rolling it in between his thumb and index finger._

_"Look at the pot calling the kettle black."_ _A taunting laugh left him as he gazed up at her, his chocolate-brown eyes roaming her familiar face._

_She was complexion of dark brown clay with an oval face, somewhat thick eyebrows, a pointed nose, and small, full lips. Over her left eye was a thin, vertical scar running from the top of her left eyebrow  to the end of her slightly hollow cheek. She was still beautiful with the scar, he thought._

_But the truth was that it wasn't a birthmark or a traditional custom of the Kivuli, her ancestral tribe._

_She wasn't born with it, and it wasn't always on her face._

_Looking at it reminded him of his one screw up, the only thing that he considered to have failed at._

_He moved a hand up, brushing the back of his knuckles against her right cheek. The surprisingly gentle gesture was something that only she was privy to. Jay was brash, strong, sometimes a little too aggressive-- but underneath the infinite layers of his intimidating and tough exterior, under the callousness, hostility,_   _and dark, intense eyes was  a kid, who like Vice, was broken beyond repair, forced to grow over the cracks in his soul (if he even had one)._

_She was the first one to not flinch at the monster he'd become-- mostly because she was a monster all of her own._

_His energy changed again as his lips formed a straight line. Vice noticed it, and_ _put her hand over his wrist. "Jay?"_

 _“This is the kind of shit that makes me want to slit my own throat...” He said, after a while. “I mean... yeah, you fucked up her wrist, gave her a black eye and a broken nose in return, but a scar is_ _forever."_

_...She didn’t know that he still felt that strongly about it. It was three years ago when Vice was fourteen._

_Then again, he was pretty pissed when she showed up at Dragon Hall the next day with bandages surrounding one side of her face. Now that she thought about it... it was angriest she saw him, complete with cursing, broken bones, bloody faces and dead bodies for the teachers to clean up. Vice found it cute, as well as a bit of a turn-on, seeing him slightly worked up._

_She remembered the warm feeling she had in her chest (because she wouldn't say that she was moved in some way, no never) --- as she witnessed Jay rage for the first time. He was a destructive storm that consumed anything and everything that got in his way. Actually, Uma was like that too. She was more "controlled" about it, but angry all the same that Mal had managed to leave a physical scar on her face. Nereza too. Vice at the time, didn't understand -- didn't get it. Why did they rage so hard? Why were they so protective?_

_Why the hell did they care?_

_She didn't get it then, but now as she reflected, it dawned on her: it was because they gave a shit. They raged because they **could**. _

_These were things, no people-- the only constants in Vice's life. Nothing is forever until it is._

_With a small shake of her head, she chuckled to herself. An unreadable expression came onto her face as she put that realization aside and to the back of her mind..._

_“Well-- she only has one wing, so we’re sorta even."_

_"I guess." He knew that she was trying to cheer him up. She laid down next to him at last and he moved his hand from her cheek and leaned forward, wrapping his arm around her torso. His fingers found her belt-loops again._ _“...I’ll never let anything come near you. Not while I'm here.”_

_It sounded harsh and sudden, and there was a bit of malice behind it, but not aimed at her, but at Mal, at Auradon. Anything that tried to threaten her. “Not as long as I’m alive.”_

_Her forehead ever so lightly touched his. "Trying to say I need protection?" She teased._

_"No, but it couldn't hurt."_

_Vice chuckled, allowing herself a faint smile, a gesture that only Jay was privy to. She wanted to say something more, but it would have been something nice and Isle kids don’t do nice._

_Besides -- she didn’t need to say anything. He already knew how she felt. They both did. And it was knowing that they both cared in their own little ways that made her enjoy the silence. No useless utterances of declarations of feelings and such things. A mutual understanding._

_\---_

There was a knock at the door, followed by the sounds of footsteps. Shortly following that, a girl’s head peeked in. “I was told I had a roommate?” The rest of the girl’s body followed, and she looked down at the schedule she had - which included the dorm room number. She looked up to make sure it matched. “So you’re her, right?” She inquired, walking into the room shortly after.

“I might be.” Vice said, giving the girl a once-over, noting her clothes.

Freddie wore a violet and ruby red vest, with an orange shirt underneath, black fishnets, golden bracelets and bangles, a long, flowy skirt and white wedges with black tips. There were four white dots under both of her eyes which contrasted with her golden brown skin tone.

“My bed’s here,” Vice jabbed her thumb at the bed behind her on her side of the room. Vice’s bed had the blanket that Jay had gifted her a year and a half back. Her pillows were in brow and black pillowcases with the letter ‘V’ embroidered on them. Her side had brown, orange and black curtains. She fashioned it that way to remind herself of her home, back on the Isle. “Your side is there,” she added, using her chin to point to Freddie’s side which was relatively untouched aside from the removal of the putrid pink curtains that made Vice gag every time she saw them. “They brought your stuff up too.”

Freddie’s belongings were still packed neatly on top of her bed. “Wicked.” The daughter of Dr. Facilier sat on her bed, noticing how much more comfy it was than her old one back on the Isle. She pressed her palms into the mattress and it left a brief imprint. It felt nice and all but… “Wait-” She looked up at her new roommate, her eyes widening in shock. She recognized her, with Vice’s long black dreadlocks being the only difference (when she was on the Isle, the left side was shaved, as opposed to it being a full head of dreads like currently).

“I knew your name sounded familiar from the letter!” Freddie rised from her spot and squinted her eyes, which made Scar's daughter look at her with a mixture of confused and cautious eyes. “I saw you fight a couple of times at Fight Night!” 

“....” Vice, unfazed stared blankly. “So I guess you’re a fan or something?”

"Something like that." 

"So you're Freddie?" 

Freddie nodded and plopped back down on it, grabbing her bag to unpack her stuff. She immediately noticed how soft and comfy it was, and felt the bitterness in her bubble up. Auradonians living it up while she and her father slept on stiff, bug infested couches. (She still had some scarring from the bites on her arms and legs). “I know Fairy Godmother said no to magic because of the ban and stuff, but I brought my Voodoo tools anyway." 

Not sure if that was supposed to mean something to her, Vice went back to her own bed. "You know if anyone comes in here, you're fucked, right?"

Freddie pulled out a little ragdoll with stitches, a wooden bowl, and small stick-thing that Vice recognized as the tool that the cook at Ursula’s Fish and Chips would use to mash things together. She also pulled out a box of chalk (for drawing circles), empty bottles of varying sized with labels, tarot cards, different colored candles, and other things that Vice has never seen before. "Not if I make a secret altar that only I can access," Freddie grinned. 

With a shrug, Vice scooped up Jay's beanie from the side of her bed, set it on her dresser and picked up her pen and notebook, writing something into it. 

Freddie picked up the items, and started sorting them out on the dresser that was near her bed, muttering something to herself about arrangements.

Vice also heard Freddie's stomach rumbling. “I don’t suggest eating anything here. It's all loaded with sugar."

In the midst of gathering her ritual tools, she opened her other case, and started sorting out her clothes, undergarments and shoes, putting them into the closet that was on her side of the room. She almost didn’t hear what her roommate said. Then she scrunched up her face and turned around. “ ...What's  _sugar_?”

“You'll know if you ever taste or smell it.” Vice took a stray loc and tucking it back into the messy updo she currently wore. There were some that rested against her forehead, and at least one that framed the left side of her face. All of the dreads also either had red strings or multi-colored beads in them, while a thin black band held everything up together. 

Freddie huffed. “Well, that sucks. The fuck do we eat? What do  _you_ eat?" 

“Nothing." She replied flatly. 

“Oh. Well, I guess it's a good thing I brought some Isle food with me, then?" Freddie scratched at her scalp, fighting an inch. "Gimme a sec." The girl looked around the bed before she found a bag the size of her own leg (which was a tall bag since Freddie had long, slender legs). She brought out familiar foods that Vice knew; bruised apples, rotten bananas, plastic bottles of coffee from the Slop Shop that she most likely stole, some greasy fries, mashed potatoes and "gravy" from Ursula's Chippe Shop (that she actually  _didn't_ steal from, but merely bargained with Uma for-- it took  _forever_ ) among others.  

Vice's nose caught a whiff of it, and she was instantly reminded of home...

\---

“Yo.”

Jay was an Isle kid, through and through. 

There was no such thing as knocking on doors.

Speaking of, he leaned against the door-frame, waiting to be noticed. He saw a red-headed boy just finish unpacking his things. 

“Jay, right?” He laughed a bit. (He guessed it was him from one of the letters that Jay wrote, which was addressed to Hadie. They had talked about it in the limo on the way). 

"One and only.” He walked inside, hiding something behind his back. “Think fast.” 

Jack was barely able to get out the question of ‘what do you mean?’ before the heaviness of the object he caught in hands, registered to him. If they were back on the Isle, Jack would have most likely retaliated with throwing an object of his own.

However they were on Auradon now, and he had to remember things were different here. He looked down at his hands to see a glass bottle. When he looked back up to Jay again, the boy closed the door behind him, opening his mostly red and black vest and took out another bottle of alcohol.

“Auradon has taste?”

“Made this shit myself.” Jay scoffed, amused by the thought of Auradon even having something like that there. _Fat chance._ Back on the Isle, all they got were cider, expired soda, and if they were lucky, actual coffee beans, because what the goblins served back at the Slop Shop _definitely_ were not. “With the shit they had, I’m surprised that I could make _anything._ ”

Jack nodded, approvingly. “Must be pretty damn smart to know how to make shit from nothing.”

"That's what being born on the Isle does. You manage." Jay picked up his bottle and crossed to where the large television was.

Jack followed, sitting down on the other chair. Jack had ditched his leather jacket, wearing a t-shirt that was half red and half black with holes at the sleeves and around his torso, with a broken heart emblem on the back, golden leather jeans with white paint splatters and gold trims, and black laced up combat boots that were tied only half way.

Jay handed him the bottle opener that he stole from the kitchen.

Jack popped open the top and then put it on the table in front of them. He looked around for the remote, and turned the television on. It was his first time looking at a television that had more than one channel. As he flipped through the available channels, there was a show that displayed three animated, weird-looking girls in pink, blue and green with no thumbs or fingers with huge eyes. He changed the channel, and there were a group of people who were fighting in colored spandex, and when he changed the channel again, the pictures changed to an animated picture about a girl and a black cat with a crescent moon on its forehead.

 _‘Ew.’_   Jack's first time watching television with more than one channel and all of the bright colors just seemed to burn his retinas. (It also all looked like trash, but he kept that to himself).

 Jay wordlessly took a swig of his bottle. He was gonna comment on the second show, but closed his mouth when he heard the stomping of footsteps and someone snarling under their breath.

“I fucking hate this stupid castle already!” a new voice said.

The black haired, pale skinned son of Hades and Persephone stomped inside the dorm room, opened the door, then slammed the door behind him. Both boys who were sitting down, looked up to see the frustrated Hadie. He huffed, taking his jacket off, revealing a black long sleeved shirt with electric blue sleeves that had a blue flame in the center, the back of his shirt saying “Warning: Hothead closer than appears” in scratchy handwriting done in black marker. His pants were also dark blue and gray with side pockets and a chain on his left side which were tucked into black ankle-length boots with the flaps folded down.  

Jack changed the channel again, muting it to listen.

For the second time that day, Jay perked up slightly. “Got lost already, candlestick? You were always shit at directions.” 

“Fuck you, snake-face,” Hadie retorted near immediately, sticking up the middle finger at Jay with a laugh. “This castle is big as Cerberus, if you haven’t gods damned noticed.”

“Like your mom’s hole, right? Can’t be that different.”

“At least I know what _mine_ look like,” Hadie sneered.

Jay nearly choked on his drink. He laughed into his fist, managing to say, “But she doesn't care about you enough to stay on the Isle.”

Hadie opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. He nodded, his tongue rolling around in his mouth as he glared at Jay. Jay returned the stare, and all was silent. At least until Hadie and Jay started laughing. “Fuck- you asshole! Piece of cat shit!”

“Goblin snot.” 

“Accident baby.”

“Cursed baby. --We can literally do this all day.”

“I bet that’s what she said-”

Jack sat in his chair, his head going back and forth between Jay and Hadie - finding himself amused at their banter. He wanted to take a sip of his drink, but he didn’t want to risk choking his life away, so he decided to wait until they both were done. _‘When was the last time I’ve laughed so much..?’_ He thought to himself. A frown appeared when he couldn’t remember. 

“I'd rather break my own kneecaps then be a hoe like you though.” 

“Hoe? Me?! Who the-” He pretended to be outraged, and stomp around, which made both Jay and Jack roar with laughter. “It’s because I’m Greek, isn’t it? You have ONE! _ONE_ Uncle who’s well-known in the pantheon, and _everyone_ thinks you’re just like him--”

“You didn’t deny it,” Jay pointed out as he put down his bottle. 

“I hope you fucking slip in a pile of cat shit and break your neck, Arabian Nights.”

“Oooh, maybe whatever higher power up there in the sky or wherever the fuck will strike me down. Oh no!. I’m shaking in my little boots.” Jay stood up and brought his fists into his chest, pretending to tremble for emphasis before breaking out into laughter again. This time, all three boys laughed together.

Hadie huffed and shook his head. Just then, a wide grin appeared on his boyish face. “Get _over_ here, fuckhead.”

“I was waiting for you, Greek tragedy.”

Jay snidely remarked as he and Hadie firmly gripped his forearms. With the opposite arms, they slapped each other’s hand, and then broke away, and turned their fists upwards, hitting themselves in their left shoulders respectively. With that, Hadie’s hand found Jay’s shoulder.

“Seriously though. Man, the Isle’s boring as shit without you there. It's like a freaking ghost town. ...Glad you’re still sticking to your roots though. I can only imagine how much shit Auradon gave you...” He squeezed it before letting go.

Jay fondly nodded. He returned the gesture by clapping Hadie on the arm. He turned around and walked back to his seat. “I can imagine. It’s probably more of a hellhole than it was before, since most of the key players are gone now." He shrugged. "I never planned to switch sides in the first place. And eh, it's not a big deal," he lied through his teeth. "I've been through worse." (Not a lie, unfortunately). 

After Jack took some more of his drink, he finally spoke up again. “You two know each other?”

“Yup. Me and Jay go back. _'Troublemaking rascals'_   as my dad likes to say." Hadie held out his fist and Jay bumped it with his own. "--He met me just a little before he met Vice, actually. We were thirteen, I think.” Hadie looked around for another chair. There wasn’t one, but there was a small table that was coffee sized that he decided to use as a stool because he didn’t give enough of a shit what he sat on. He sniffed the air between them. “Is that an Isle drink?”

“It might be.” Jay answered cryptically on purpose. He handed him a brown paper bag with a bottle inside. “But you didn’t hear it from me.” At that, Jay swiftly kicked a box over. 

Jack took a long gulp of his drink, and reveled in the burn at the back of the throat it made. Jack looked down. “... how many did you make, Jay?”

Hadie's black eyes looked at the bottles, counting them in his head. There were more than ten.“...and _why_ did you make so many?” (He also wanted to know _what time_ he had to make them, but he dedicated to leave that question for another day. When Jay didn’t feel like answering questions, he wouldn’t answer them, so there was no use).

“Enough for a week or two. And because nothing else works. Non-rotten food, remember? I had to improvise." He hated not being able to eat- he'd lost some weight because of it. (He still was muscular though so nobody brought it up. Then again, it was most likely because Jay was very off-putting and asocial).  

"Fair enough," Jack resigned. 

Hadie took the bottle opener and popped the cap open, helping himself to the drink. "So nothing to eat, huh? That's a big problem. How do you get around that?" 

Jay snorted. "Starve until the food expires and eat it." 

"Does that work?" Jack asked. 

"Sometimes. Starving yourself isn't exactly _fun_. But I gotta survive, so I deal."  

\---

Later that day:

Mal’s pale green eyes looked into the Enchanted Lake. Her thought were a haze of various, troubling thoughts, still. 

When Ben announced that Vice, Freddie, Hadie and Jack were to come, she was, for lack of a better word, _surprised._ As cruel and selfish as it seemed, Mal truly did forget about those people, and half of them, she hoped to have been dead.

Or  _worse._

Since they’ve arrived, the daughter of Maleficent made sure to avoid them. Strange thing was that she was doing well, so far.

If only her dreams could work that way as well.

Last night, she had a nightmare that Vice tore out her eyes and clawed at her until she was nothing but a mangled body. 

On the way here, she thought about them waiting until she was asleep, vulnerable and defenseless to tie her down and gag her mouth. For some reason, they were by the docks on the Isle. She was crying, and trying to beg for mercy but they all cackled in her face and tossed her into the water where she was eaten by a crocodile---

“Mal?” Ben waved a hand in her face.

The girl came back into reality, visibly spooked. “Huh?”

“Are you okay? I called your name five times. I asked, ‘how do you like being ‘Lady of the Court’ so far?’” He blinked, noticing that she looked frightened. “...are you okay?”

“... Oh.” She said, calming down. She shrugged, gathering herself. “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.” Mal said hesitantly with shifty eyes. She purposely didn’t answer his other question.

“Mal?” 

"Yeah?" She pretended that he didn’t ask the second question.

He frowned, and it was something that made her feel icky (because she refused to call it guilt -- she still chose to stick to her creed of never being emotionally vulnerable. Never again. It was getting harder to keep up the mask and be hyper vigilant at the same time, but she managed somehow). Ben only looked at her with his eyes, the ones that said that _'you're being difficult but I'm still going to ask because I care'._ Those eyes gave her mixed feelings; another feeling that felt like a warmth in her chest, like she was special, and the other being the icky thing that settled in her stomach. Mal pressed her lips together and gripped her arm, feeling herself starting to crumble all over again. (What in great magics was going on with her today? Geez...). She chewed on the inside of her mouth and then sighed exasperatedly, avoiding his gaze. (Damn his caring heart and his eyes).

“...Fine. I’m not okay."   

The boy’s hazel-green eyes looked at her sympathetically. He hadn’t mean to come across as pushy.

Ever since Uma crashed Cotillion, she’s been more withdrawn, and quiet - keeping to herself, even from _him_. Not that he blamed her (he _did_ yell at her when she was under pressure... but how was he supposed to know if she never told him anything...?). He was  _worried_  and just wanted to help. Like the sweetheart he was, he apologized to her.

Mal blinked, mentally kicking herself for the feeling that she experienced earlier. She hated how weak she became. Usually, she would feel better about herself by hurting someone else, but that was frowned upon here. (That and she chose to put it behind her. She honestly didn't know why she decided to switch sides - it was a spur of a moment thing. But she couldn't take it back...). She also found herself unable to shake her Isle habits which included the tendency to antagonize others. 

 _ _‘Maybe I can push Chad or some AK down the stairs, or pour paint all Pinocchio's son...? I could also frame someone and start a fight. But who would even fall for that..?’__ She thought. Even though she was the King’s girlfriend, and future Queen of Auradon. (It was a bit uncomfortable to think about since she didn’t do it by force, hell, she didn't even want to be Queen in the first place. She wasn’t a political-type person; It was the reason why Evie was more busy than usual -- she was taking care of what was essentially Mal’s duties in that respect). Before long, she had realized that she had fallen so deep into the recesses of her own mind that she forgot that Ben was still talking.

“...But you can’t just not tell me things, Mal.” She heard him say. “We have to talk. We have to talk about the things that are bothering us. I’m your boyfriend, right?”

His eyes pleaded with hers, but again, Mal was straight-faced. She frowned a bit, her eyes briefly looking back at him. Mal sat down at the edge of the platform of where the water met the lake, but not too close to it. (She scooted away from the edge ever so slightly). She shuddered at the thought of having almost died. After Uma’s appearance at Cotillion, she developed a slight fear of water. It reminded her of everything that happened - how quickly the situation went south when she trash-talked the sea witch. She was used to Uma being under her, _seething_ , while maintaining that “Mal didn’t bother her”. (Especially when she knew she was in fact, bothering her). Mal had gotten used to using her mother’s name as a way to keep everyone else at bay. She was used to being feared (or avoided, take your pick). Though there were times when that didn’t work… The phantom pain returned in her eye and she winced. 

 

She didn’t want to think about them again, but the thoughts just kept on coming back: of Vice clawing out her throat while cackling, Freddie choking her until her face turned red, Hadie laughing as he tortured her soul for all eternity, of Jack punching all of her teeth down her throat, of Jay snapping her neck-- 

“Mal?” Ben asked.

She’d gone off into her own thoughts again. She looked up at Ben, slightly annoyed. Mal still looked sick, but her facial imperfections were cleverly disguised with makeup. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ugh... if I say something, will you let this whole thing go?” 

Ben sat down next to her, his legs crossed under him. He looked eager to learn more about the Isle, about her life there and _why_ the VKs didn’t seem to get along with her. Or rather, the other way around? Ben was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that nobody told him they didn’t even have clean _water. Or completed houses. ‘The children…’_   was all he could think about. Black, murky water surrounded the island, _how the fuck_ did he not notice? Was he _that_ hung up on getting Mal back that he didn’t see...? (Talk about “love makes you blind”...).

Mal didn’t want to talk about it at all, but if it got Ben to stop being persistent.. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did Uma try to kill you?”  He’d been wanting to know the answer to that question since Cotillion. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get Uma’s words to Mal out of his mind; couldn't believe how ... _rotten_ Mal was being. He still found it hard to believe that it was _her_ that was talking...

Sure, bad blood was bad blood but what the Enchanted Roses? 

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. _‘Why did he have to ask me that first?’_ She complained to herself. “Why do you want to know about her so badly, Ben? It’s just some old beef that started on the Isle. It doesn’t even concern you.”

...He should've known better; Mal never talked about anything that easily. But he was trying to be patient - they've only been together for seven months. But still.. he was still hoping that she could tell him _at least_ that.

It made him feel a little frustrated -- she always had her walls up, and he barely knew enough, but common sense told him why.

 _Still..._ “It doesn’t concern me? _Really?_ You weren’t the one who was under a love spell or kidnapped by pirates, Mal. Your so called “beef” with the daughter of the sea witch put me in the middle of it and I believe that “beef” runs deeper than anyone imagines it to be.” Ben said, matter-of-factly.

Now it was him who frowned. He tried to be patient with her, he did, but sometimes, her stubbornness made talking to her difficult. “Actually-- none of that would have happened if you would had just tried to tell me about it. I know that we were both busy, but I would tried to make time for you. I did. But... you just ran off because you were under pressure... How am I supposed to be a good boyfriend if I don't even know what I'm doing wrong?”

Mal glared at Ben. “I ran away because I’m not one of these pretty, prissy pink princess that can be perfect all the time-”  
  
“Nobody’s asking you to be perfect, Mal! Geez, where do you even-” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head was starting to hurt. He inhaled, trying again. “What I’m trying to say is, in a relationship, there’s two people. Not _one_. Communication is what makes it work. If we don’t have that, there’s no trust either, and..” His shoulder slumped as he glanced at Mal, ignoring the glare that she was giving him. “Then what’s the point?” He shook his head, slapping his thighs with his hands.

“You said that you’d say something, but apparently that was a lie, too. I suppose that being concerned over why _my girlfriend_ almost **died** in front of me is not a valid excuse, right?”

“That’s not fair.” Mal muttered her breath. She looked away from him, pouting. Her arms were folded over her flat chest, and she exhaled from her nostrils. “And it wasn’t a lie! I’m not _Jay,_ I’m not a liar,” Mal said defensively.

“Jay’s been more honest than you have! And he absolutely _hates_ me.” Ben _knew_ he did because Jay had told him so, at Parents' Day. (Well, the VKs all had a collectively horrid day, so it was understandable.. though Jay always said what he meant, to Ben’s knowledge).

“For the love of-- are you serious right now?" She glared at him even harder, her insecurities surfacing ever so slightly once again.

 _("She's just an angry girl with a bad plan... not so different from you when you first came to Auradon, Mal.")_  

She didn't even try to push them down. She stood up suddenly with a scowl on her face. "First, you compare me to _Uma_ , now Jay? Who’s next?  _Plain Jane_?!” She scoffed, muttering _“unbelievable”._

Ben narrowed at his own eyes at her. He didn’t like that nickname for Jane. It was bad enough that the girl had low self esteem and poor body image issues since she was bigger than most of the girls at Auradon Prep, but that was _not_ okay. (Even worse was the fact that Jane constantly tried to make herself _smaller_ to stop the “teasing”, which hurt his poor heart when he’d found out). He didn’t talk to Jane often (because Kingly duties), but that didn't stop him from trying to check up on her every once in a while).

“That’s going _too far_.” He put his caring, compassionate self aside, and channeled the King within, confronting Mal with a straight face. 

“Aww, did I hurt your feelings?” 

“That … _isn’t funny_ , Mal.” Ben’s nostrils flared. _'What the hell..?'_   “She’s getting bullied. Is.. is that _funny_ to you?”

“Here on Auradon? Bullying? Yes, _very funny_ since this is the land of do-gooders and stuff like that.”

Her sarcasm did not sit well with the King. Ben’s eyes hardened. _‘What.. on what planet is someone’s pain and suffering funny...?’_ He thought to himself. He could not believe her right now. He stood up, not wanting to roar at her by accident again.

Mal rolled her eyes with a sigh. She chewed on the inside of her mouth, and folded her arms over her chest. There was a short pause, before she uncrossed her arms in an attempt to lean forward and touch his face. “I was joki-”

“ _Don’t._ Touch. Me.” Ben ground out, disappointment settling in his eyes, and in his heart. He smacked her hand away with a speed and ferocity that neither teen knew he had. “You’re … I can’t be here right now.” His hands were shaking, and he felt angry.

Angry and frustrated.

She tried to hug him, but again, he refused, avoiding her touch. “I mean it. Stop, Mal. Just ... _stop_.” He shook his head, walking away from her.

Even though he felt bad for leaving her behind, a part of him felt like it was the right thing to do. He remembered someone telling him once if he “loved” something, he had to let it go... But what was he to do when the object of his love was not all it was cracked up to be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We're disregarding the entirety of Wicked World, with the exception of a few characters.  
> Freddie is one of them, which is why she's coming over to Auradon instead of being there already by some mix up. We've also changed her appearance and personality some.
> 
> As always, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism is always welcome.


	5. Chapter 4: "A Pirate's Life"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Official debut of Uma's pirate crew, with minor Harry/Uma.

On the Isle of the Lost, Pirates’ Bay:

On the poop (end) of the deck, Shango, a fifteen year old boy with a telescope. His dark gray eye saw the same thing that he usually saw; the overcast skies that they were cursed with.

(Thanks, Auradon).

However, something burst through the equally as dark gray clouds, in the shape of an airborne creature. He gasped, cupping his mouth over his hands, “LETTER! We have another letter!” The boy said again, having a loud voice for someone so small. He closed the telescope (it was collapsible), and ran towards the middle of the ship, his long brown legs taking him to the dock. The other pirates in the area looked at him, at each other, then above. The bird became fully visible to the present members of the  _Lost Revenge,_  and it flew in a side circle, slowly descending. 

“That a' boy,” Jian, a pirate older than him by a year, encouraged. He come up to Shango and ruffled the young boy’s head. Jian had a small gap between his front teeth and a slight hard to understand accent. (The others got used to it, though). Jian whistled, calling the bird's attention. It swooped down and perched itself on his forearm. The talons weren’t sharp, so he didn’t mind its claws lightly raking against his slightly dark olive skin. He undid the rope that was tied around the bird’s foot, and retrieved the thumb-sized letter attached to it. 

It chirped, turning its head to look at Jian, expectantly. 

“Oi, Lola."

The girl with pale, dirt-covered skin, dirty blonde hair and one hand nodded. “Yeah, gimme a sec.” She dug into the pocket of her worn out amethyst-colored pants with her only hand and held out a bag for him. “Here you go.”

He dug out some semi-fresh, but mostly almost expired raisins from the bag with his free hand, and opened his palm for the bird to eat. 

“Hey, Shango,” he turned to the youngest of them all. “Give this to Jonas -- he's over there.” He gestured with his head, since both of his hands were full.

Shango nodded and took the letter that was sandwiched between his fingers. He held up the letter victoriously as he sprinted over to Jonas, the pirate with cornrows and a long face. He was one of the more ferocious of them all, but he had a soft spot for children (though the last unfortunate soul to point it out got impaled, so word of advice: _don’t do it_ ).

“Jonas! Jonas! We got another letter!” He shook it in front of the older pirate. The tanned-skinned teenager took it from him with a grin. “Ayy, lil’ swashbuckler. Killer. I’ll take this to Uma,” he said ruffling the little boy’s head of tight brown coils. As Jonas turned to enter Ursula’s Fish and Chips, Shango, Jian and Lola followed.

Uma, their, fearless and powerful Captain, as usual was serving customers.

“I ordered the-”

“I don’t give a shit what you ordered,” Uma snapped. “Ya’ either eat or starve; your damn pick." She pointed to a sign in the store, near the entry point which read  _"YOU TAKE WHAT WE SERVE",_ in bold letters (because some Isle residents were that stuck-on stupid). She cocked her hip and put a hand on it, her eyes forming a look as if to say, _"I dare you to say somethin' else"._

The customer opened their mouth to complain, but found the complaints dying in their throat as a hand found their shoulder. The customer looked up to see the hand belonging to a bald-headed, dark shade wearing, athletically-built teenager that was two shades darker than Uma in complexion. He applied pressure ever so casually.

The customer looked between him and Uma and closed their mouth just as quickly, shooting her a nervous and terrified smile which said, "please don't hurt me". 

"I thought so." Uma looked at them up and down before setting her sights on the dark-skinned pirate boy. She ever so slightly tilted her head to the side; a signal for Nerio to fall back. With a silent nod of understanding, he did so and walked away from the table, audibly cracking his knuckles. 

With a satisfied grin, she strutted away from the table as well only to find her mother’s restaurant swamped with the rest of her pirate crew. She raised an eyebrow as she spotted Jonas standing off to the side, with a piece of paper sticking out of his hands.

"An update." He said, having unfolded it. (Jay had folded the paper into a tiny square small enough to be inconspicuous -- he really was smarter than he looked, Jonas thought). 

Uma took the unfolded paper, smoothing it out on her already-stained half apron skirt.

Little Blue chirped. “ _No_.” Uma's eyes glared up, the focus being on a slender teenager with medium-length shaggy hair. "Get that pest out of here, Jian."

“It won’t leave,” he frowned. 

Little Blue chirped again, its head looking every which way before looking in Uma's direction. 

Uma rolled her eyes, then narrowed them, using her index and middle finger to motion _‘I’m watching you’_   to the bird. (The bird’s crime was eating some of the food meant for the customers in previous visits --- which she couldn’t have because that meant less money and income for her, and Uma heavily disliked anything that got in the way of her money).

Little Blue visibly moved backwards while in Jian's palm, and looked down. Whether it meant that it feared her or felt guilt (she doubt animals felt anything, if at all), meant nothing to Uma. As long as it wouldn't steal her food and to an extension, _money_ , then they were chill. 

With that, Uma cleared her throat, ready to read the letter as Harry Hook, her First Mate emerged from the gates, entering the shop. Several fish with two -- and some of them having four-- eyes dangled from his hook. With a whistle, he raised it and then cleared his throat. The cook, a ghastly-skinned woman with frizzy reddish-brown hair and dirt and grease covering her face and hands put out her tray for Harry to drop the fish in, and maneuvered back into the kitchen, yelling out orders. 

“Oooh, a letter from Bore-adon, eh?” Harry noticed, an eyebrow raised. As if it was second nature, he took his sword, and scabbard and dumped them into the barrel that said _"Sword Check"_. (Reminded that Ursula's Chippe Shop was a 'no-fight' zone, the other pirates who had their swords on them followed suit, which included Jian, who had help from Lola).  

“Uh-huh." Uma's eyes flickered up to see her First Mate and then went back to the letter. 

Harry strutted over to his Captain's side, reading over her shoulder. The letter read as the following: 

_Yo, Uma._

_'Sup._

_I'll just cut straight to the point here;_

_Something's up with Mal. I dunno what, but when I last checked up on her, she fainted._

_There's severe baggage going on under her eyes, her skin was paler than Snow White, and her cheeks were sunken in. I also noticed that her undertones were a vomit kinda yellow. It reminds me of the days where the school's lunch used to be that mystery yellow soup shit._ _They used to serve it back at Dragon Hall (I'd rather take that than whatever they have here but that's not important)._

_I'm not sure if they do that for you at Serpent Prep, but you're smart. You'll probably get what the fuck I'm saying._

_Anyway, she's sick._

_Just thought I'd tell you because it doesn't look like a regular sickness, food poisoning, or a immune system issue... If it was the third opinion, she would have died a while back, No kid's who fought their immune systems make it past 10, so it's definitely not that, either._

_Again, not sure what the fuck it is, but when I do find out, I'll update you again._

_-Jay._

Uma looked over the letter two more times, letting Jay's analysis of Mal truly sink in. 

Her archrival sick? Looking like _death_ ? 

The only thing she was jealous of, was not being on Auradon to see it. However, as she mulled it over, she came to the conclusion that Mal's sudden illness was strange as well... If she wasn't sick by any common means... then what the hell was it...? She pursed in thought, folding the paper in half. 

"Issit a' good thing, Uma?" Harry asked her, sea-blue eyes studying Uma's face. "Makes our job of raisin' hell a lot easier, yeh?" 

"I'm not sure yet." Uma muttered lowly, thinking aloud. She touched a finger to her lips, and squinted her eyes. ( _Davy Jones_ , was she attractive when deep in thought. Harry kept that to himself though). 

“Not sure of what?” Gil asked suddenly. "Is something happening?" The youngest son of Gaston's three children got his answer when Uma passed the letter to Harry to pass to him. Then- 

"Um, Uma? I .. can't read, remember?" 

That brought the Pirate Queen out of her head-space. "..oh. right. Harry?" She smacked her First Mate's arm with her hand and gestured for him to go to Gil. Harry sighed and did what he was told, taking a seat next to the blonde-haired pirate. Gil handed the letter back to Harry, so he could eat some more egg yolks and listen. 

While Harry read the letter to Gil, the some other members of the pirate crew gathered around to hear. All except for one-- who actually wasn't even a pirate. 

Nereza, who was sitting by them, pushed herself off of the counter and walked to Uma, hearing some of what Harry was reading as she passed by. "That's your plotting face," she accused. "What's up?"  

Uma gazed back at her friend, and then back at Harry, and at her crew. She watched them laugh in glee as they read Mal's status, taking it as a personal victory. 

They were one step closer to achieving their goals. 

"Nothing. I'm just having trouble decide on something." 

"On what?" Nereza asked, not following Uma's drift just yet. 

"What to wear to the celebration when we destroy Auradon from the inside out." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Everyone with the exception of Bonny, Desiree, Jonas and Gonzo are OCs/Original characters made up by us. (And yes, as you've noticed most of them are kids of color. Most of them).  
> Reference for Languages Spoken:  
> Pirate-speak: 
> 
> Swashbuckler = a swaggering or daring soldier or adventurer.*
> 
> Jonas and the pirates use it as a term of endearment, so it can also be read as having familial connotations.**


	6. Chapter 5/5.1: "Push it to the Limit"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie doesn't forgive or forget.
> 
> There's also a tourney game, and a bet involved because they're still teenagers and do teenager stuff when they're not focused on raising hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This shit took so long because we had writer's block. We're sorry that we couldn't get this out sooner but we're glad that this is out of the way now so that we can officially continue the story on a more regular schedule of sorts. Plus, tourney was hard as fuck to describe without it getting boring so we had to skip around some parts so that it would be understandable to still get what was going on. 
> 
> Maybe R.O.A.R would be easier to write.. 
> 
> But thanks for being patient with us! We'll be more consistent from this chapter going forward!
> 
> Glossary:  
> Tourney: Auradon's favorite sport which is a cross between real lacrosse, hurling, soccer and football.  
> Left/Right Forward(s): Position on the team for the fastest players and best scorers.  
> Left/Right Defender(s): Players who's main duty is to protect their fellow players from projectiles and actively block and stop their opponents.

Freddie woke up with a small puddle of drool under her. She rubbed her eyes and then looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 11 am. She groaned to herself and stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. She pushed herself up from her bed, and lazily opened her closet. She rummaged through it, and picked up whatever she saw. With her towel and clothes (toothbrush and paste included), she trudged into the other open bathroom. It didn’t take her long to hop into the warm shower, so within another fifteen to twenty minutes, she was squeaky clean with a towel around her body and hair. As she re-emerged, she spotted her roommate applying lotion to her legs.

“. _..Whoa._ ”

She blurted out without meaning to. What she saw was Vice’s leg muscle definition -- holy _shit_. Her calves and thighs were uniquely toned. No wonder why people went down hard when she kicked them! Her legs looked like they _hurt! (And most likely did)._

Even if she didn’t mean to, Freddie felt a bit self-conscious. Her legs and thighs were slender and long compared to Vice's thighs that were thick and looked strong enough to crush someone’s skull.

The thought made her shudder unpleasantly.

She shuffled back to her bed, cursing her genetics. 

“Jay said the same thing when we first had sex.” Vice finished her legs and then dropped the towel on her bed. “Then again, he said a lot of things. It’s a blur,” she shrugged, a hidden blush on her face as she recalled their encounter on the rooftop.

(Or was it in a car? Abandoned apartment? An empty classroom back at Dragon Hall? Damn, it _was_ a blur).

Freddie’s mouth was hanging open at that rather sudden, blunt admission. “Seriously? He didn’t know you were .. y’know-- _fit?_ ” She asked the other curiously as she plopped down on her bed and began lotioning herself, starting with her hands and arms. "Hasn't he ... seen you fight? Heard of you? It's the Isle; a big-small island... even if you don't know about someone, you've most likely know or heard _of_ them..." 

Vice lotioned down her arms and shoulders. "Nope." 

“Then how did you two meet?”

"Howler," Vice shrugged. "But we did technically meet before that. He just doesn't talk about it because I kicked his ass."

Freddie's jaw dropped. "What?! Girl, no you didn't!" 

"It's true. He still has the scars to prove it." Vice snickered, briefly catching a glimpse of her roommate's shocked expression from the corner of her eye. She rolled her toned shoulder. She applied her lotion to her thighs and the rest of her lower body before methodically moving up to her hips, stomach and sides. "Then we fought again and he won. Well, _if_ you want to call it that.." 

It took her a while, but putting together the basic knowledge Freddie had of Vice's love of violence and fighting--. "Unholy shadows. You're nasty!" But Freddie grinned. "So how mad was he?"

"Threatened to slit my throat if I didn't fight him 'seriously'. So then I did. Hit him hard enough to break his nose. He broke mine in return. It was back and forth until we both realized we liked getting hit and hitting _each other_ so then it got awkward. Well for him," Vice corrected herself. " _He_  didn't know he was into that."

Finished with her face and neck, Freddie took down the towel wrapped around her head. Her still-slightly damp hair smacked her in the face, some strands already curled up again. “Ooh..." She winced. "That does sound awkward. Poor Jay. Then again, he had to figure out some of his kinks somehow, so...--Wait, why the hell were y'all fighting? Did he do something? Did _you_ do something?" She made a face at the Kivuli. 

"Oh, misunderstanding. You know how those go on the Isle." Vice shrugged. "That, and we were unknowingly after the same person. Hence the initial confusion." 

"....I can see why Jay doesn't talk about it." Freddie gathered her clothes and other things as she walked over to Vice’s side. "If I wasn't from the Isle, and you told _me_ that story, I wouldn't believe you for shit.

Oh-- is it cool if I put my things here? It's easier than talking across the room. Less neck movement and all. I'm lazy."

After Vice finished patting down her arms and hands, she moved over an inch. "If you want."

Freddie put her clothes and shoes on a chair and pulled it closer to her. She then took a seat on the edge of the bed near Vice and removed her own towel. Neither girl said anything for a while, which created an air of a weird, but welcomed silence. Freddie stole glances of Vice every now and again, catching some instances of scars on the other girl's body (Especially on Vice's sides, and arms..). She felt self-conscious again because Vice's body looked strong but also lean in comparison to hers. Why did she have to be thin and slender? 

Again, she cursed her genetics. 

"You're staring," Vice blurted out, not even looking at Freddie. "Quit it." 

"Ah-- how did you- I mean no I'm not-"

"Liar." She shivered when the lotion made contact with her face (it was cold, even if she rubbed the product into her hands to warm it up). "I felt your eyes. I know what being stared at feels like... so I know you were staring." Vice reached over and grabbed some supplies from the top of her drawer; a brush, a comb, a tub of what looked to be hair gel, and some scrunchies. She tied her locs up momentarily with two of them, and starting grabbing some clothes. 

Freddie blew some air out of her mouth. "My bad, then. I just.." She cut herself off with a shrug, and shook her head. "Forget it. It's nothing." She finished applying lotion to her body, and followed Vice's example of getting dressed. Then-- "I've never... I don't remember the last time I've done this with someone." 

Vice, who was in the middle of putting on her distressed fishnet tights, paused. "...Done what?" 

"This." Freddie gestured to both of them. "Getting ready with someone. I haven't done this in.. forever." Freddie realized, with a blink. Her shoulder slumped, and her eyebrows furrowed. She shook her head again. "My bad. I didn't mean to get depressing. It just feels... nice to not be alone anymore." 

Not sure if that was supposed to mean something, Vice continued silently.

She couldn't relate -- while Vice herself, mostly grew up alone before the age of ten, she didn't see any problems with it. She knew that Uma was largely lonely before her as well. Same with Nereza, and definitely Jay (before he met her and Hadie)... but even then, Vice didn't see the problems that other people had with loneliness. Maybe because Vice was used to it....? Maybe she was mentally stronger than all of them..? It was not something she dwelled on, nor want to, so she decided to change the topic. 

"What's today's date?" 

Freddie, thrown off by Vice's sudden question looked up at the calendar that was hanging on the wall to the right of Vice's bathroom door. (She also noticed the broken doorknob on it). Her face scrunched up in confusion, as she didn't recall seeing that when she came out of her shower....  It was something that she made a mental note to ask Vice about later. "Wednesday. --Oh shit. It's _Wednesday_." Freddie squeaked, standing up. She reached for her romper from the pile of clothes she set down on the chair earlier, and put her legs through it, hastily putting her arms through the holes when the article of clothing slid up her body. "Tourney game's today!" 

"...." Vice rolled her eyes at her roommate throwing on clothes hastily. Vice looked at the clock. 1:30 ...ish. They had time, she thought. The only reason Vice was up earlier than she would be was because she wanted enough time to read the books that she took---er, _borrowed_ from the library. However, she quickly abandoned that idea when she discovered that none of them had the information she wanted... and since Vice could never go back to sleep, she decided to go for a shower. 

She was never going to wake up this early for _anything,_ ever again. 

Freddie stomped her orange-painted toes into her chunky heels. (They were spray-painted ruby red and tangerine orange). As she did, she remembered the very last time she ever consciously put effort into her appearance. She realized why it felt wrong to her. Because the last time...

...when was Celia was alive. 

\---

 _“Freddie! Jack! I’m going to go and play with my friends. Is that okay? Daddy says I have to ask first," Eight-year old Celia held a wooden slingshot behind her back. She was essentially a miniature version of Freddie but much shorter (she was 4'2"), and with round cheeks that she hasn't exactly lost yet. Unlike Freddie, she took on her father's darker skin tone, and wore her big hair in two big "puffs"._  
  
_“Play? Do you mean terrorizing everyone? Annoying Madam Mim?” Jack put down a statue of a minor villain, and turned to face Celia. He shot her a smirk._

 _The girl had an alliance with two of Madam Mim's grandchildren, Makeena and Matkaza. (Rumor has it that the worse of them all were Madeline Mim, also known as "Mad Maddy")._  
  
_“Noooo..” Celia stood up on her tippy toes. Her wide, violet eyes and almost innocent smile betrayed her statement._  
  
_The oldest daughter of Dr. Facilier raised an eyebrow at her, not believing Celia. "Mhm." Freddie looked her up and down. "Just go and have fun but come back for dinner! We're closing the store early today.” Freddie went back to cleaning the bookshelves, coughing when some dust was accidentally kicked up._  
  
_Celia smiled and ran up to them, her short arms catching a leg of either person. “Yay!”_

_Freddie and Jack looked at each other, and then at Celia and hugged back. “Nous t’aimons, Celia.”_

_The little girl replied, “Je t’aime, vous deux.”_  
  
_As they broke the hug, she ran out of the house as fast as she could. But before she bolted out of the door, she gave them one last big grin and waved her slingshot. “I won’t be long! I promise!” Then proceeded to continue running, her youthful, childlike laugh ringing in the air._

_For some reason, a few minutes after she left, the couple found themselves looking at the spot where Celia was before… There was a nagging, foreboding feeling that slowly ate at them._

_Like something bad was going to happen._

_If only they knew how right they would be..._

\---

Freddie took a deep breath, trying to center herself. 

Done dressing up, Vice took down her locs and shook her head. They fell a little past her shoulders, and framed her face. She was in the middle of adding accessories (snake-themed earrings), when she heard a sniffle. She turned her head to see Freddie tearing up.

The girl's shoulders slumped and she sunk in her spot on the bed. The other shoe that she was supposed to wear, dropped from her grasp, and Freddie began softly crying into her hands. 

Vice looked at the clock. 1:45 pm. 

Does she have time to pretend to care? "...." The Kivuli decided no, and continued getting ready. She slid on some golden rings, and one ear cuff on each ear. She put on the lion's tooth necklace that Scar gave her. The finishing touch was her dark shades. She looked over at her roommate who was still crying. 

1:50 pm. 

...As much as she wanted to leave her in the room, Freddie's sole foot sticking out bothered Vice. Maybe she'd help put the shoe on and _then_ leave. 

So Vice did just that. She even buckled in Freddie's foot so that she wouldn't accidentally slip and break her neck. (Even if that would be much preferred than the sound of crying because the action in _general_ , pissed her off). Vice patted the girl's head and then went back to her dresser, putting her hair tools back in place. 

She walked around Freddie and then stopped at the door, turning to look at the girl over her shoulder. 

"I'm leaving now. You're fine by yourself?" 

Freddie sniffled, wiping at her eyes. She tried to breathe but all Vice heard was an annoying wheezing noise-- the thing that most people do when they're crying and trying to breathe at the same time. She shook her head "no". 

"Want me to get Jack?" 

Again, no. 

"...." Vice sighed. "So I can leave, right? Thumbs up for yes. Down for no." She really wanted to go--

Freddie put her head down, resting in her lap. "J-just go already.." She muttered and sniffled again. "I'll be out soon... just... just give me a sec." 

"Cool. See ya." With that, Vice opened the door and closed it behind her. Once she did, she heard Freddie start crying again. Something about her sister or something.

It didn't matter to Vice. 

\---

 _Freddie remembered doing her hair, doing magic tricks with her shadow cards, playing peek-a-scare with her, being called “Fweddie” because she was too young to pronounce the “r” correctly._  
  
_She remembered her dad being so proud that he had two baby girls -- it was the biggest smile Dr. Facilier had, EVER, even bigger than when he conned Prince Naveen into becoming a frog._  
  
_She remembered her dad telling them stories about how he pulled one over on them, how close he was to victory and why being evil was so important - it was their legacy, their culture._  
  
_She remembered the last time her dad smiled… when he shut down, became overprotective, paranoid about her safety._

_She remembered watching over Celia when she was bathing with semi-clean water, when she was there to teach her not to touch the damn stove because it was hot and could explode at any moment, since everything the Isle inhabitants got were run-down, outdated, or just didn't fucking work._

_She remembered all of it._

_Then she remembered why._

_Someone wanted to hurt Freddie._

_Cut her deep._

_Get her where it mattered; her family._

_And that someone... was Mal._

_\---_

In the halls:

Jack emerged from the boy's bathroom, and turned a left down the hall to his locker. The red-haired boy sighed to himself nervously. He was a new recruit for the Tourney team. He'd never been much of a team player either. 

Honestly, he only joined because Hadie made a bet that he _wouldn't_ make it. 

And now, look at him. 

He's on the team, and of course, Hadie had the last laugh. (And some of Jack's school allowance, something given to all students due to Auradon's student program). 

He was still pissed that he not only made the team but had to deal with Hadie's laughter for the entire week... (and giving away his rubies... he'd never seen money like that before and almost half of it, gone). 

His shoulders slumped as he brooded--

"Jack." 

He turned around at the sudden, harsh voice. "Vice?" He looked at her up and down. "Killer outfit." 

She nodded. "You need to see Freddie. She's crying or something."

His eyes widened. "What? Why, what happened?"

"I dunno." She shrugged, putting her hands on her hips. "But I was getting ready and I looked back at her to see her crying and stuff. She told me not to get you but someone has to come and take care of that. I don't do crying people." 

"Oh no... Laveau.." He muttered, frowning. He was supposed to report back to the field for Tourney practice.... but.. "Where is she?"

Vice pointed. "Straight down. First door to your right." 

"Alright." He turned around, and put his tourney stick in his locker for the moment, and closed the locker. He put his gloves into his back pocket and lightly sprinted in the direction Vice pointed. 

Once he left, she sighed in relief. She was free. 

_("It just feels... nice to not be alone anymore.")_

Nope. Not her issue to fix. Freddie was someone else's problem now... 

Sending Jack was the bare minimum she'd preform as far as emotional labor went....

...Especially considering that Vice herself, had no emotions in the first place. 

Nothing besides anger. 

\---

Two hours later,

Tourney field:

_“...and now Auradon’s Fighting Knights! Versus Neverland’s Lost Boys!”_

The announcer, a stocky, non-Frenchman in a gray suit exclaimed. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and the cheerleaders twirled in the air. The marching band played music as Auradon’s players came out the sides, entering the field where the other team awaited. The Lost Boys wore light green and sky blue, their symbol being Peter Pan’s face as a silhouette. Auradon’s team wore the schools’ colors of royal blue, yellow and dashes of white, their symbol being a knight’s helmet with their tourney sticks forming an 'x' behind it. Lining up on their respective sides of the field, silence finally took hold of the area as the two teams waited a brief moment. Then they heard a whistle, and the sound of a ball whistling through the air into the “Kill Zone”; a red and white painted section in the very center of the grassy green rectangular field.

A Lost Boy ran forward, wooden tourney stick in hand to claim the ball for his team, but suddenly went crashing towards the ground when his legs were roughly kicked from under him.

(“ _A savage move by Jay from the Isle of the Lost!”)._  

Jay grunted and front-flipped over the downed player. “Yo, Jack!” He yelled, taking the ball by lifting it with his stick and passing it over to him, since he was open. The red-head ran forward and ruthlessly knocked another player down with his shoulder, catching the ball with the stick.

“Got it!” He yelled back, maneuvering around another Lost Boy.

(“ _Jay has passed it to the newcomer! Another kid from the Isle! Is this teamwork?!”)._

With a grin on his face, Jack balanced the ball on the end of the stick as he charged forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jay ramming his body into someone else - causing them to fall to the ground and drop their shield. Another stick whizzed by Jack’s head, just missing the ball. (He was grateful for the helmet, he realized). Jack hit in the ball in the air, simultaneously knocking his shoulder into a boy that was a head shorter than him and yelled, “Head’s up!” before hitting in his direction. “Oof-!” A force collided with Jack, sending him square on his ass.

( _"Oooh! What a rough start for small, little Carlos! Thrown into the new kid!” --_ There was a distinct laughter in the audience that may or may not have came from the spot where a certain child of Scar was seated. Most of the audience winced) _._

“Dalmatians! My bad!” Carlos exclaimed, shaking his head.

“Watch it, you little--!”

Jack growled, but remembered where they were. He picked up his stick and was tempted to push him down just because, but discarded it, seeing a familiar red canon line up in their line of sight. “Fuc--”

Carlos whipped his head around to see the Dragon Cannon, picked up his stick, and swiftly put up his shield to defend them; a _“ptew!”_ sound slightly catching Jack off guard. (It was his first real game as the other sessions were practice. Plus the circular disks, called "Dragon Fire" sounded like they _hurt_ ). As they ran away from the proximity of the Kill Zone, they were met with more Lost Boys. This time, Carlos was prepared, and bashed his shield with the opposing team’s Left Defender.

( _“Carlos recovered quickly, what speed! A beautiful block and he does a little mocking dance!”)._  

Jack’s tourney stick clashed with another’s, which ended up with Jack forcefully shoving the other player to the ground, the stick flying out of their hand. Jack leaped over him and continued maneuvering over other players. 

_("Harsh block by Jack! He jumps over him like nothing's happened! He's weaving in and out like a professional!")_

“Whoo! Get ‘em, Jack!” Freddie cupped the sides of her mouth with her hands as Auradon’s Fighting Knights scored their first goal. Besides her was Vice. She clapped and cheered for Jay from her seat as well, as did Hadie who was also sitting next to her.

For the second quarter of the game, the ball went to Neverland’s Lost Boys _,_ because their Right Forward got one over on Chad. The player was halfway to the Fighting Knight’s side before Jack mercilessly tackled him to the ground. Jay picked up the slack, and zipped to the other side, just missing the Kill Zone. The goalie frantically tried to spread himself wide so that he could block it, but Jay feinted a right, making the goalie miss as the ball hit the net again.

( _"_ _Two for Auradon’s Fighting Knights! The sudden tag-team of Jay, the hothead and Jack of the Isle! What a ruthless duo!”)._

Jay and Jack high fived each other as they went back to their places just behind the Kill Zone. Allowing the opposite team to regain their footing, (because they single-handedly _did_ hurt most of their players in only the first two quarters), they were given a short three-minute break. (Which was a chance to splash their faces with water). After the break, the game resumed the same way; Carlos defending and blocking, either Jack or Jay stealing the ball from someone, or playing off of each other in frightening synergy.

This happened for the majority of the game, leading to the near-final score of 5 (for them) to 0 (the other team).

_(“It’s the final quarter! The tension is so thick that you could cut it with a sword! The teamwork from these Isle kids is unlike any other I’ve seen before, folks! Can they keep the winning streak with fifteen seconds on the clock?!”)._

A taller player from the Auradon team, Herkie - the son of Heracles and Megara - ran forward with the ball, and passed it to another teammate, before colliding with a Lost Boy. The ball continued it’s track to the goal on the other side; escaping the grasp of yet another player when Carlos put his shield up, hitting the ball into the air. “Jack!”

The red-haired boy ran forward, using Carlos’ shield as a springboard, jumped into the air and smacked the ball over to his brown-haired teammate, “Jay!”

He dived in between someone’s legs and caught the ball with his stick. With a grunt, he rolled back onto his feet and hit the ball forward. It whizzed by the goalkeeper's head and landed inside the net, securing the winning streak.

The crowd went wild upon hearing the buzzer that signaled the game was over. The marching band blasted victory music, as the cheerleaders did their obviously-way-too-perfect-practiced routine.

Vice covered her ears since all of the noise at once was a bit overwhelming, while Freddie’s over-excited cheers didn’t help, since she was basically screaming into her ear). She growled and stuck her fingers into her ear, trying to block out the ringing of her ears as the overwhelming cacophony of noises died down. 

At least Freddie wasn't crying anymore. 

Though Vice, at that point was sure that she'd _definitely_ rather go deaf than deal with another crying person _ever_ again. 

 


	7. 5.2. "Poor Unfortunate Soul"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal and the Ghosts of "You-done-fucked-up" Past. 
> 
> Yes, we're terrible for making this joke and yes, we don't regret anything. 
> 
> But we're back after four months, so here y'all go. (Sorry it's kinda short compared to the ones we have planned!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for Chapter 5, there will be 10 mini chapters. At this time, 5 are done or nearly done. (Including this and 5.1). These chapters will serve as time for characters to interact with one another as well as reveal more backstory, motives and so on. 
> 
> We hope you enjoy these!  
> 

Mal didn’t go the Tourney match three days ago. She never really paid attention to the blasted sport, nor did she care for it. She frowned and stared up at the ceiling.

Mal was alone in the dorm room, _again._

Again, again,  _again_.

Why did it feel her life was cyclic?

Her own boyfriend, Ben was still upset with her from their last conversation as well. (More so, because she had a problem apologizing whenever she was wrong). How the hell was she supposed to know that Jane was being bullied? Was she supposed to _care_ ?

She wasn’t the one doing it! Those were _Auradonians._ (Which she pointed out to him to redirect blame, but also because Mal had a _point_ and magic forbid that she _never_ had a damn point) _._

Besides, she never interacted with Jane after Cotillion, and before that, she barely spoke to her _after_ Coronation. (She didn’t apologize back then, either. What was Ben expecting, really?).

Villains weren’t supposed to feel _sorry._

They also didn’t change sides in the _heat of the moment_.

Almost nine months later, and she _still_ couldn’t completely understand what made her do something so _stupid_. But she did, and here she was. No wonder her mother was angry.

With a sigh, Mal finally sat up from her bed, and rubbed at her face. _'What time is it..?'_  She looked at the clock. It was a little past 1:15 pm.

She missed four of her classes-- something that she couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names of. She pressed a hand to her mouth, suppressing a tired yawn. Mal glanced in the direction of her mother’s glass tank. (She’d also forgotten to get the tank replaced-- the crack from eight months ago was still there.) She wasn't in any sort of rush due to her mother being reduced to a mere lizard. She was safe in her tank with no chance of escape.

( _"Love is useless! It's nothing!_ **_Just like you!_ ** _I don't love you because I simply don't! If you were even HALF the woman your sister was supposed to be, then maybe I would!”_ ).

Mal's shoulders sunk and she held her arm. The grip on her bicep tightened as she shut her eyes and bit down on the inside of her cheek.

( _"Love is almost as terrible as being trapped on that godforsaken prison island!"_ ).

Mal's bottom lip trembled. She felt small.

Defenseless.

Worthless.

It reminded her of how Maleficent was displayed in the Museum of Cultural History; a dragon with broken teeth and a tongue lolled to the side with a sword through its chest. She took a pained breath, closed her eyes, and willed the image out of her head. _'Think unhappy thoughts. Think unhappy thoughts.'_ Mal softly muttered to herself, attempting to invoke old memories of successful schemes and pranks she pulled back on the Isle. Unfortunately, it only made matters worse as it made her lightheaded. With an annoyed groan, she rubbed both sides of her temples. Mal felt her eyes flicker green; there was a familiar pressure on--no, _behind_ her eyes, as if they were going to pop out of their sockets. Getting up reluctantly, she trudged to the shared bathroom, looked at the mirror and saw her own reflection.

Then it shifted briefly.

She turned around, and then glanced back at the mirror and blinked. The image was gone. _Whatever it was._ But there was now a scab under her left eye. Her face scrunched up.

 _‘I don’t… remember that being there.’_  

She lightly picked at it. Then it got itchy, so she scratched a little harder. It got even more irritating, so she scratched even harder. When she looked at the mirror, her eyes widened and she saw something small, something _slimy_ , under the surface of her exposed cheek. It looked like a worm. Another appeared, then two more, from the exposed skin under the pink meat of her cheek. Gasping in horror, she turned on the facet and tried to watch off any possible “worms” from her hands, but when she looked down, she saw them wiggling just under her fingernails.  She stumbled back, colliding with the wooden door with a _THUD_.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” She screamed in horror, her arms up defensively. Catching her breath, she looked at her hands. They were normal again. Confused, she turned her hands, and inspected them closely. _‘I’m fine..? What…?’_ She patted herself down, and looked at the mirror again. There was no scab or gaping, exposed hole on her face. She looked normal. “...what the…?” She muttered to no one in particular. She walked to the mirror and inspected both sides of her face to make sure. _Normal_ . She took a shaky breath and blinked rapidly. Her eyes weren’t glowing anymore. “...maybe I should go for a walk…” She turned around, and exited the bathroom. Walking to the bed again, she softly plopped down. ‘ _Where’s my boots?’_ Mal huffed, her favorite purple and green battered, golden dragon-themed boots nowhere to be seen. (She got it for a steal at a 50% bargain sale on the Isle and spray-painted the heels herself). She could have sworn that she had it somewhere here… She stood up again and exasperatedly sighed. “Why can’t anything go right?”

 _“Someone’s losing their edge.”_ A new voice entered her head. It wasn’t her mother’s. This, she knew because this voice was deeper in base and _much_ , more colder than Mal’s mother.

“Jay?”

Mal jumped up, almost immediately. Nobody was at the door. Mal’s eyes narrowed. _‘What.... the fuck is going on?’_ She moved away from the bed, and looked around the room.

_Nobody._

It was just Mal. She spun in a circle and her eyes landed on her dark, heavy curtains. Anxiety claimed her legs and made her walk cautiously. When she reached them, her hands shook and she quickly pushed the curtains from each other. “Argh--!” She slammed them shut again. She turned around, and rubbed at her eyes. It was sunny outside. She forgot how _different_ the climate was here. The Isle of the Lost only had dark, overcast gray skies. Sometimes there was thunder, sometimes there was rain. It was mostly cold, or chilly, and warm occasionally.  

But there was never sun.

There were _never_ stars.

The only things close to the latter were colorful rockets that anyone on the Isle could see that victoriously-- and sometimes, _mockingly_ appeared over Auradon’s castle, those colorful rockets that would explode in the sky.

Those stupid, ugly, _hideous_ colors.

And Mal was now future Queen of said Kingdom. Maleficent Bertha, daughter of the Dark Fairy, formerly of the Isle, current Lady of the Court.

She saw those rockets-- called _fireworks,_ first hand, after the Coronation. Not half-bad, but now that she thought about it, she hated it. She hated the noise of it.

She hated having to bow to people, having to smile, having to be “nice”, expected to just up and forget her previous upbringing. It was ironic, because as much as she tried to forget, she remembered two more of her misdeeds. Such was the case currently, as she skulked towards her bed and heard sinister laughter. Mal’s body tensed again as she set her jaw. She looked around, annoyed that once again, nobody was there. This time, she wanted to make sure, so she walked around her bed and checked the doorway. No one. She went to Evie’s closet.

 _Nobody_.

She walked towards the mirror and paused.

 _("_ _I thought we were friends! How could you?” )._

She remembered saying once. Mal suddenly remembered where she heard the laughter from; a girl who used to be her partner-in-crime, that wasn’t Uma. A girl that used to run around with her and raise hell. A girl that used to be mistaken as being Mal’s “twin” (a thing she hated -- she couldn’t stand being compared to others). A girl that Mal thought she’d never see again.

_(“You think I’d forget about what you did to me? That I’d forgive you?”)._

Her face paled. “Mad Maddie?” Mal’s image shifted into another’s.

Shoulder-length purple hair shortened into ear-length, uneven aqua-green hair, chaotically cut with short bangs. Light green eyes shifted into one lime-green eye, and Mal’s light skin darkened and blistered into an unrecognizable mess of melted flesh and burn marks riddling a great portion of her body. Maddie’s right eyelid was melded together into the skin around it, which included her actual eye, of which stuck out quite literally. It looked like it was ready to fall out, if it wasn’t horrendously stuck to her face the way it was. Maddie’s lips parted and she laughed again.

( _“You betrayed me.”)._

Mal slowly backed away. She shook her head. “You’re … not real. You’re in my head. You’re not here right now,” she muttered to herself, trying to convince herself. The sad excuse for a teenage girl moved out of the mirror and suddenly grabbed Mal’s wrists.

“This is your **_FAULT_ ** **.** ” She hissed harshly, blowing hot, bated breath onto Mal’s face.

The purple haired teenager fought against the other’s grip, unable to stay calm. Her nose scrunched in half in disgust, the other half in terror. “Let go of me!” Mal screeched. “Get off!” Her voice cracked.

“NO.” The voice dipped into a booming base that couldn’t have belonged to her. Maddie’s hands morphed into two different ones. The girl’s grotesque image gave way to two girls; identical twins. Both had pale skin riddled with some mild burn marks, mid-chest length black hair, and almost pitch black eyes. Their faces were splotchy, with patches of brown skin here and there. Two hands held either of Mal’s wrists, as they slowly emerged from the mirror. Mal struggled against them as they approached her; their grip on her wrists tightening.

“You aren’t real! Stop it!” She screamed, eyes shut closed. She tripped over her own footing, fighting the apparent apparitions of Hadie’s sisters, Macaria and Melinoe.

They survived the burning of their house by that annoying little Hadie. The same lowly worm that had the nerve to reject _her._ When she tripped and fell backwards, she hit the back of her head on the wooden floor and hissed in pain. She found her arms free, because she brought them up to hold her head. She seethed, and held her breath. _‘Why is this happening to me?’_ But before she could get another train of thought going, she was interrupted by another apparition.

“Where’s my big sister?” The little girl asked. From Mal’s current upside-downview, it looked like the eight-year-old was taller than she actually was. She stared at a surprised, wide-eyed Mal. The girl’s skin was a darker skin tone than Freddie’s, with coarse, black hair parted in two sections, styled in two cloudy-looking buns. It made the girl looked ridiculous, which was one of the reasons why Mal picked on her that day.

 _(“Who dressed you? Your mother?”)_ Mal recalled saying to her. She remembered making the girl cry with her comment. Apparently her mother died giving birth to her. Or something like that. Anyway, she laughed at her and pushed her to the ground. She killed her. She didn’t even remember the _reason_ why, but she remembered killing her. _**“What dID I DoOOOOO?”**   _The girl asked, her voice’s innocent and soft chime delving into a unsettling screech.

Startled, Mal scrambled up to her feet, throwing her blankets and pillows in front of her, trying to create distance between her and the ghastly little girl with a haphazardly slit throat, and open gashes on her arms and face. Mal closed her eyes again, willing her away; willing _everything_ away.

“Leave me alone!” She yelled again, fear gripping her heart. She clutched strands of her hair, and yelled it again. Panting lightly, she opened her eyes again. She did a sweep of the room -- no more apparitions. No more voices, or ghosts. Thank Diablo. Maybe she could relax… Feeling her heart thump in her chest, she made her way to her mirror again, finally finding her boots.

(She also forgot she had a shoe rack in her room installed. Five month anniversary gift from Ben-- seriously, Auradon was weird with how they celebrated _everything_ ).

Mal walked over and grabbed them, and sat down on the edge of her bed. She put them on shakily, and when she tied her laces, looked up in the mirror again -- to make sure that she wasn’t imagining things. When she saw nothing, she sighed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t losing it. Auradon wasn’t taking a toll on her.

...Or not, because she then saw her mother. Her eyes widened. _‘But she’s a-’_

She looked to the glass case of which her mother resided. She was still there. Mal looked back in the mirror. _‘If mom’s there then who’s…?’_

Try as she could, Mal could not think of any viable explanation. That had to be her mother too -- an earlier point, as well. She looked younger, there were no wrinkles, and she had all of the regal aura that she knew her mother to have.

And then she didn’t.

Maleficent’s green eyes glowed onimously and she oozed out of the mirror, as a slinky, murky ghost of her former self. Her eyes bled black blood and when she opened her mouth, endless rows of monstrous, razor-sharp teeth showed. Her long, twig-like arms reached out, her hands closing around Mal’s throat. **“I should haVE kiLLED yOU Like i KILLED YoUR h um AN FAthER.”**

“Wha-?”

  
“ **DIE ALREADY!** ” The image screeched, choking Mal. “ **DIE!** ”

Mal struggled, her mouth wide open. “Mo-”

\---

“Mal? Maaaaal? Hello? Mal!” An ear-length, dirty-blonde haired girl shook the screaming and thrashing purple-haired girl. Her hands landed on Mal’s shoulders, and she yelled in her face. “MA---OW!” Mal’s head collided with hers, causing the girl to hiss in pain. “What the crown?! Why’d you hit me for?!” She complained, rubbing her forehead with a pout.

Mal gasped loudly, panting heavily. Sweat lined her forehead, face and neck, and she held fistfuls of her blanket before she realized that her head hurt. She groaned and rubbed it. “W-What? What’s ...going o-on?”  Mal stuttered as she opened her eyes to see Princess Anxelin, the daughter of Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert rubbing her own forehead and muttering “Crowns, that hurts!” to her sister, Ruby.

“Why are you two in my room?”

“We were trying to wake you up! You were screaming for the past two hours!”

“What?” Mal look around to see more princesses at the door of her dorm room. Her head was still spinning, but she could already tell that none of them had blue hair. “...Where’s Evie?”

“The last time I saw her, she was hanging out with Jane.” said Adalina, one of Queen Ariel’s nieces. Arabella, another niece, nodded in agreement.

Mal’s jealousy slowly crept up, at her roommate Evie not being there with her. However, she bit that down as quickly as she could, as she looked at the girls in her room, wondering if she was losing it for sure....

“Okay, the show is over. You girls can leave now.” Mal snapped, her mask falling into place.

“Are you sure that you’re fine? I can get Fairy Godmother to help!” Ruby offered.

“NO! I mean--,” Mal breathed, “No. I’m fine.” She shook her head. 

“Oh okay, then.. See you around, I guess?” Anxelin muttered, still rubbing her head. One by one, the girls left the room, some of them consoling Anxelin as well.

Mal took a deep breath, trying to control her feelings and thoughts.

It was one of the few times in her life that she had to, or else she’d _actually_ break.

“....I’m _fine_ ,” she told herself. "....it was just my mind playing games.” Mal said to herself as she got up and stumbled into the bathroom for a painkiller.

A disembodied sinister laugh entered the room as she closed the door behind herself.

**_“If you only knew, Mal… If only, you knew.”_ **


	8. 5.3 "Witches' Brew"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie meets Freddie. 
> 
> No, it does not go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if these chapters are uploaded with long gaps in between each other, it's worth the notifications, kudos, bookmarks and comments. Thank you all for hanging in for so long! Y'all are awesome!! 
> 
> We hope you enjoy the story in its entirety!

Sometimes, Evie felt like she should have been born here. She fell in love with everything upon first sight; even the soft pinks and blues ( _especially the blues_ ) that the princesses would wear.

She was a princess in heart and mind, and sometimes, she felt _guilty_ for liking Auradon, for being _off_ the island.

She felt guilty for trying _so hard_ to _fit in;_ for playing dumb for airheaded Chad. Merely thinking about him made her want to vomit just a tiny bit in her mouth. (Even if it wasn’t nice of her to do).

However, the truth was that she _was_ from the Isle. She _was_ a VK. Even when she started out with her clothing line, “Evie’s 4 Hearts”, most of her early designs were Isle-heavy. It wasn’t easy for her to just up and forget about the Isle as she thought. It was one of the things she avoided talking to Doug about. (And yet _another_ issue she felt guilty over). The only thing that lightened her emotional and physical load, _was_ ironically Doug. He was her financial adviser and stand-in for orders so that she can solely focus on designing dresses and getting them out on time. (And that was when Evie wasn’t too busy being physically and mentally exhausted from picking up the political slack Mal refused to pick up and learn). When they weren’t working, he’d reward her with compliments, rubies, and kisses -- he liked giving her kisses and she loved receiving them. The blue-haired girl slightly frowned.

If only she could just somehow make a wish and make herself a princess for real.

_If only._

She looked down at her books. _‘Advanced Chemistry’s today… I’d rather be working on another design than go there… I mean, I love the class but...’_  Evie anxiously trailed off in thought, chewing on her bottom lip.

Advanced Chemistry was her favorite class, hands down, but there were two things that she could do without; the judgemental and favoritism-heavy Mr. Deley….

And the daughter of the Shadow Man, Freddie Facilier.

Despite not knowing much about her, Evie had an aversion to Freddie which was caused by rumors she’s heard and remembered from Mal; that Freddie shrunk heads and cursed people if she didn’t like their faces, that she was sneaky and underhanded just like her dad. She tried to not let these rumors and doubts cloud her judgement, but it was difficult since Evie didn’t have much to go on, outside of hearsay. She held her cobalt-blue binder and notebook closer to her chest. Evie pushed the door open with her other free hand, and entered her Advanced Chemistry class. The class was a hybrid -- it mixed students that were new and didn’t have the class before with kids who did and passed already. (Evie was the latter).

“Open your textbooks to page 295,” Mr. Deley, a short yet stocky middle aged man, instructed. He didn’t move on until he heard the turning of pages. He turned his back to his students, picked up a piece of chalk and scribbled on the board.

Evie looked around the brightly colored room, her eyes transfixed on a particular beaker filled with a lime-green fluid. She wondered what it was.  Absentmindedly, she tapped her pen against her cheek, still wondering about it, not noticing that Mr. Deley had stopped talking. She looked up, and saw that he was picking up the eraser to wipe away the lecture notes he talked about. Her eyes widened as she tried to take down whatever she was able to see before it was completely erased. (She didn’t get all of it, but tried to not make it look obvious).

“Today, you’ll be working with your fellow classmates. The periodic table will be involved with this, so make sure-” He put down the eraser and dug into his pocket to retrieve an stick-looking device that extended. “--that you pay attention to this chart.” He tapped the chart with it. “Partners have already been chosen,” Mr. Deley continued, putting it away and shoving it into his dark gray suit pocket. There were some groans in the class, but he ignored those.  He picked up a clipboard with paper (which most likely their names on it). “Carlos and Doug, Chad and Ally, Evie and Freddie.” He looked up. “First set of groups, go to the left. I will now call the others that have to be called. When I do, migrate towards where I point.”

 _‘Poison apples,’_ she cursed in her head.

She felt her anxiety make a home in her chest again.

Why couldn’t she be partnered with her boyfriend? Or Carlos? Was that her punishment for being prejudiced? Perhaps. Evie took a breath and exhaled. _‘Just.. be chill. If I smile, she won’t notice how nervous I am. Cool like ice.’_ Evie noted to herself. ...Yet she didn’t move. She didn’t even turn her head to try to look for her classmate (even though she told herself she _should)._ It took a moment for Evie to relax.

In the background, ignoring Mr. Deley’s further instructions and the sounds of moving footsteps, shuffling papers and squealing chairs, Freddie’s eyes scanned the room, looking for whoever it was. The only one that was soon left un-partnered was the blue-haired Isle kid. When she found her, she said,

“Over here.”

Freddie gestured with her hand in the air. Once Evie saw her, she smiled (but tried to not make it look forced). She walked over to the girl, and took a seat next to her, putting her binder and books in her lap so that her pale, shaky knees wouldn’t be readily seen.

“Hello,” Evie greeted sweetly with a trained, dainty wave. “Freddie, right?”

“One and only.” She placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “So chemistry. Remind me why I gotta take this again?”

“It’s a core class, so it’s required?”

Freddie shrugged. She side-eyed her book, then looked back at Evie briefly. “I just think it’s a waste of time. It’s the same shit as Alchemy. Just a different name.”

Evie’s eyes widened and she gasped. Her voice was then hushed as she leaned forward, “You believe in Alchemy, too? I thought I was the only one!” She smiled, some of her anxiety melting away rather quickly. “I’m not practicing -- I don’t have time sadly,” she gushed. “But I’ve read some of my mom’s old books. Oh- the ones she didn’t toss away, yet. So many of them had really intricate designs and notes on the sides of the pages- ...what? Why are you looking at me like that? Is my mascara smudged? Something on my face--?”

Freddie’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Oh, right.” Her face went back to normal. “Keep forgetting your mom was known for potions." Freddie would rather be anywhere else but here. Plus, she _knew_ these things already. 

Aaaaand cue the awkward silence... 

Evie tapped her fingers against her binder.

"So, how did you get started with Alchemy?”

Freddie shrugged. She didn't seem to be enthusiastic to talk to Evie, either. “When I was young, Papa taught me voodoo. How to draw circles, what spirits to call, what symbols mean, all of it. I put two and two together on my own as I grew up."

“ _Oh._ That’s… that sounds uh, nice.” Evie corrected herself. Her face paled slightly at the mention of “circles” and “spirits”.

Freddie scowled, noticing that from the corner of her eye. “You know, you could at least try a little harder to hide your distrust of me.” Rumors ran the Isle, even if some of them were outright baseless and only half-truths at best.

Evie’s words -- or what could have been words, got stuck in her throat. “I..”

“What’s wrong, _Princess?_ " She stressed the last part with a sneer. "Cat got ya tongue?” 

“N-No!” Evie denied almost a bit _too_ aggressively. “I just….”

Freddie cut Evie off. “You _suck_ at being a Villain Kid,” she sighed. “Then again, you weren’t even much a villain to start with, were you?” She scoffed, picking up a pen.

Evie squeaked. The nerve of this girl! How dare-

“Miss Evie. Pay attention to the lesson.” Mr. Deley resumed the lecture, smacking the top of a nearby desk with a ruler, resulting in a loud _thwack_ sound. Carlos and Doug looked back at her with soft, worried looks. (They were four seats to the left of Freddie).

The blue-haired girl felt embarrassed and looked down at her book, ignoring their worried glances. Eventually, she looked out of the corner of her eye to see Freddie writing down _something_ in her notes. Evie managed to catch up with the writing and reading portion of the lesson before Mr. Deley started the demonstration. After a couple of minutes of explaining the two experiments of the day, he continued,

“Now, everyone clear out your area, grab your lab coats, plastic gloves and goggles before starting.” The two girls cleared out their stuff off the table, put on their goggles, lab coats, gloves after putting their hair up into high ponytails. “Each one of you are going to make your own version of the elephant toothpaste and after I see you do it, then your team is going to do the mammoth together. Grab the medium size round beaker and add 50 ml of 50% H₂O₂, then add 20 ml of liquid detergent, some drops of food coloring of your choice --doesn't matter how many drops-- and finally, 15 ml of 3 M KI solution for the catalyst. You will use the formula of H₂O₂ → H₂O + ½ O₂ + heat. Are we clear? Good. Now you all may start. I will be watching.”

After writing down their notes and picking out the colors of food dye; blue for Evie and orange for Freddie, the girls started pouring the H₂O₂ solution into their individual beakers. It was Evie who broke the silence first.

“Excuse me, but what did you mean by ‘weren’t much of a villain to start with?’” Evie asked, adding the liquid detergent into the solution and swirling it around.

Freddie cringed. “ _That._ Manners? _Who_ , on the Other Side says _‘excuse me’_ so daintily like you do? Ugh." She shook her head. “Anyway -- before I get off track again, what I meant was the evil gene must have skipped a generation because it looks like you don’t have it.” The voodoo princess poured multiple drops of orange food dye into the 50% H₂O₂ solution and liquid detergent mixture.

The blue-haired girl again, offended, gawked at Freddie. "What if I don't _want_ to be evil? How you thought about that?" Evie fired back. Being evil is what got her mother where she was; trapped on the Isle. Being evil is what made her mother's looks wither away....

Deranged.

She didn’t want to end up like her mother; disillusioned and withering away at front of a mirror. “Besides... I like being good. Doing nice things makes me feel good and tingly inside." Evie frowned after realizing that she added one too many drops of blue food coloring into the chemical. She would have panicked (and did, a little bit--) but quickly remembered what Mr. Deley said about the food dye. (She let out an anxious whimper, however).

Freddie scowled deeper, upon hearing the girl's admission. (It made her cringe). She remembered that her father told her that Evie and her mother was banished from the main part of the Isle but didn’t know _why_. (It was an off-hand comment he made when he was telling her about students that were headaches). “Wow, you're really one of them. _Turncoat_.” Freddie put down her tool and leaned forward in her chair, her chin resting in her palms as she waited for the chemicals to react, not looking at Evie. 

Evie looked at Doug and Carlos’ side of the table, being covered with red and green thick form while the two young men backed away after the foam shot up, nearly hitting the ceiling. Seeing that their project was completed, Mr. Deley gave them a nod of approval. Evie looked at her own blue solution before she looked back up at Freddie, as if to ask "what's that", but stopped short of asking because Mr. Deley started to walk over to their table. She'd keep a mental note to look up what that term meant later. She decided the change the subject instead.

“Mr. Deley can be a lot to handle sometimes; he tends to show favoritism toward non-Isle kids.”

“No _shit_. It’s almost like we’re in _Auradon_. Oh wait.” She gave Evie an _“are you joking, right now?”_ look.  

“Oh. ...Right.” Evie gave her a nervous chuckle. 

Freddie, who was still a bit hurt (for lack of better word) from a few days ago, growled at her under her breath. 

Mr. Deley reached the girls’ table and cleared his throat.

“Ladies, might I remind you that this is a _science_ course and not chit-chat hour?” He pointed towards a sign in the middle of the classroom which said, “No talking unless instructed to”. There was a red circle and a slash through a pair of lips. “Unless the dialogue was about your in-class project, I hope.” He looked down at the table.

“Oh?" Freddie started. "Well, before anything, you should be concerned with the table right next to us.”

Mr. Deley and Evie turned around to look at a table to Evie’s right. They were greeted with the sight of Chad Charming not paying attention. Instead, he was too busy performing one of his favorite pastimes; flirting with any princess he could for the week. This time, the target of his (false) affection being Ally, the daughter of Alice.

“Um.. I don’t think the solution should be reacting like that...” Evie muttered worriedly.

“An actual smart comment you've said.” Freddie replied with biting sarcasm. She grabbed her stuff on the way. _‘At least class is going to be over early today.’_ Everyone else in the class besides Chad (who was oblivious) and Ally (who was loving the attention), noticed the beaker bubbled, and rumbled uncontrollably. Quietly, the students, including Evie and Freddie, backed away to a safer distance, their stuff in hand.

“Chad! Miss Ally. While romantic and flirtatious endeavours are encouraged here on Auradon, may I remind you that a classroom is _still a classroom?_ I.e. a place of _learning?_ Other teachers may be warm and receptive to open displays of PDA, and the like but _not_ me. So if you must, take it outside!” Mr. Deley instructed as he walked towards the table with the two students.  

Chad’s took his arm from around her shoulders and pouted. “But we weren’t doing anything wrong! We were talking about becoming _study-buddies_ for your class. Right, Ally?”

She unhooked her arm from his. “Mhm!” Ally nodded with a sickening sweet smile that made Freddie want it slap it off of her.  

 _‘More like being fuck buddies.’_ Freddie thought bitterly.

“Look, we'll show you our project!” With an overly-confident grin, he added (a little) more than 15 ml of 3M KI solution into the glass beaker, without looking at the already boiling mixture at front of him.

“H-hey, Chad, I don’t, uh I don’t t-think it’s a good idea adding that solution into the mix--” Doug warned.

Chad’s upper lip curled up in a disgusted sneer.

“Nobody asked you, _sidekick._ ” He briefly looked down at his experiment, seeing the violent bubble-- wait, what? The mixture of baby-blue exploded. The students who stood far away enough, erupted into immature giggles and finger-pointing as the three victims were covered in a very thick, very _sticky_ -looking solution.

“AHHH! WHAT IS THIS ON MY HAIR?!” Ally screamed, trying to remove the foam off from her.

“MISTER CHARMING!” Mr. Deley bellowed. “MISS ALLY! YOU TWO STAY HERE WHILE EVERYONE CAN LEAVE!! CLASS IS DISMISSED!!”

“You don't need to tell me twice.” Freddie huffed to herself. She slipped out of the classroom and spedwalk off.

Evie watched the rather rude VK leave, blinking confusedly. 

What was _her_ problem....? 


	9. 5.4 "UltraNUMB"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vice sets the record straight... 
> 
> Or, the chapter where all of Vice's possible, last fucks fly away.

A few weeks later:

 _History of Woodsmen and Pirates_  couldn’t end fast enough.

The Kivuli couldn’t even _try_ to hide her boredom.

Vice’s arms were on the table, and her chin rested on the back of her intertwined palms. She looked at the clock from the corner of her eye, and sighed inwardly, wishing that the torture could end already.

(She also couldn’t change her elective because all of the others were filled up. Or at least that’s what Fairy _Godbitch_ said).

The teacher (some woman who Vice didn’t care to remember the name of) was droning on about a kid in a green robe and tights -- not that Vice already didn’t know the tale of Peter Pan, but she had no intention to stay in a classroom with a teacher with a monotone, almost robotic voice. She'd already dozed off twice, trying to stay awake.

Lady Tremaine’s pompous tone of voice when she gave lectures in _Wicked Schemes_ were better than this drivel. The woman turned her back to the class and wrote some key notes of the lecture on the chalkboard.

Vice narrowed her eyes at the woman’s back. _‘Not like I’m learning anything.’_ She picked up her head, and put her textbooks away; one of which was Snow White’s _“How to Make Allies out of Animals”_ and the other which shared the same name as the class. She slung her beat up, one-shoulder leather backpack over a shoulder and stood up. While the teacher’s back was still turned (and _lecturing_ ), she walked towards the back of the class, and slipped out without much noise.

When she emerged from the classroom, she took a deep breath of air and looked both ways just before she turned left down the hall. Not many people were on the third floor except for some stray students and teachers, so her stroll down the stairs went quiet and undisturbed (for the most part). Vice went down to the second floor to see if she knew anyone. She peeked her head out of the stairway and scanned the area, before she noticed a familiar ombre-haired teen who wore an orange studded choker with what looked to be a stitched heart emblem on it. 

Nope, nobody that she immediately gave a shit about. 

As she walked down and reached the first floor, Vice’s hearing picked up whispers and rumors as they passed by even more stray students who gave them side-eyes and glares.

( _“I heard she’s a cannibal. All of her kind are”, “It’s the Isle, what do you expect?”)._

The semi-but-still-new, sudden attention was something that she could deal with to an extent…  but it was an extent that she was _quickly_ reaching. Her right eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Didn’t these princes and princesses have anything better to do than _talk shit all day?_

When she reached the outside seating area and sat down, she was greeted by warmer air and copious amounts of sunlight.  Some of her locs that dangled in front of her face acted as shade from the sun. She’d forgotten her shades in Jay’s room, along with her underwear.

...Which probably explained why she felt a draft through her sweatpants.

She pushed her thighs together, and dropped her backpack (somewhat more gently this time) on the spot next to her on the wooden table.

Vice undid the Velcro and flipped the flap of her bag open, withdrawing a notebook, pen, and a thick reading book from the Isle that she “borrowed” from Jay; _“Conquest, War and Fear”_ by Shan Yu. Vice briefly looked up, greeted by the sight of a couple; a boy and girl carrying clipboards with paper on them. They wore big pins on their clothes; and matching hats which said _“Make Auradon Villain-Kid Free!”._ When they made eye-contact with Vice, the girl pulled the boy's arm and walked away faster. 

_Good._

_Fear me_ , she thought--

“Really feeling welcomed,” Freddie quipped, under her breath.  

Vice looked up to see her roommate take the seat opposite of her, depositing her backpack on the table next to her loudly. 

The Kivuli sighed.

There went her peace and quiet. 

Freddie blew a pink bubble and popped it. 

 _Pop! Pop! Pop!_  
  
"..." Vice's right eyebrow twitched in annoyance. She took her pen and focused; popping the bubble when Freddie blew it again.  
  
“Hey-!” The pink latched itself to Freddie’s lips and lower half of her face. "That stings!"   
  
“Oops.” Came Vice's deadpan response. “What is that, anyway?” She pointed at the pink on Freddie’s face (that she was picking off).  
  
“It _was_ my bubblegum,” Freddie huffed. She picked off the rest of it, rolled it up in her hand and stuck it under the table.  
  
“Missed a spot,” Vice pointed out, pointing at one of Freddie’s cheeks.  
  
Freddie’s cheeks puffed out and she considered leaving it there, to be spiteful. But she realized that it probably wasn't worth it... So with a groan, she reluctantly picked it off.   
  
Vice opened her reading book as she let her chin rest in her palm. She and tapped her nails against her cheek. She ditched the dark green color for a black and red ombre scheme. She also filed them slightly shorter. Scratching herself or nearly doing so she wanted to masturbate  _wasn’t_ fun.

(Jay being into nails didn't help either... then again, he was into being scratched so it wasn't all an inconvenience).

Freddie looked at Vice, noting the name of the book. She didn't have anything to say, so she looked away. She went into her ruby red shoulder-bag and took out a small black doll with an 'x' for a mouth, and buttons for eyes. The arms weren't complete. She then took out a needle and thread. As the Shadow Man's daughter looked up in Vice's direction again, she squinted her eyes and saw two girls standing half a table away from them; both slightly familiar....

“...no offense,” the princess in a baby blue petticoat dress and white apron said. “--but the dress could be a little..”

“A little what?” Evie held up some papers featuring light and fair skinned, thin girls with long legs wearing various designs with bold colors mixed with soft ones.

“A little less.. Oh, I don’t know.. Villain-y?”

The princess pretended to look at her nails. “Maybe if you drew the dress a little better, than maybe I could see myself wearing it?” The princess shook her head full of too-perfect-blonde curls and dropped her arms at her sides. “Actually, I think it’s more than the drawing,” the princess continued. She leaned forward, and snatched the papers of Evie’s hands, which took the blue-haired girl by surprise.

“Hey!” Evie began, but was cut off (rather rudely) by the girl.

“The colors are all wrong, the lines are too thick, the prints are all off!” Again, Evie tried to say something, but was cut off by the girl searching through the papers and throwing them over her shoulder going, “no”, “nope”, “won’t work”, and _“ew!”._ Right behind her, Evie caught and picked them off from the ground, quietly huffing to herself. Finally, the princess ran out of paper, and turned to face Evie with her arms crossed over her chest.

Evie’s world of experiences may have been limited living in her castle and her mother, and being on the actual Isle for a half month before being shipped over here, but she _still_ knew the difference between being pleasant and being _not-so-pleasant_.

This girl was the latter -- and it made Evie frustrated. The blue-haired girl knew that she could use her smile as a weapon -- but she could only use it so many times before it lost effect. She could also bring up the past dresses she made; maybe remind her? “What about the dress I made for you to wear at Cotillion? You liked that one alot, Ally!” Evie flashed her a smile, even if a smile is not what she wanted to do. (It was still second nature to her).

The daughter of Alice looked at Evie as if she said something stupid, then laughed in her face, ignoring Evie’s dying smile. “It was trendy, then. _Obviously._ No offense! Of _course_ I wore it,” she placed her hands on her hips. “Mal was named Lady of the Court. Why _else_ would it be popular? In fact, I can tell you the only reason your style is popular because of the _‘edgy’_ factor.”

Freddie narrowed her eyes at Ally and popped another bubble. She looked away, starting her work on her voodoo doll with a frown. 

“...o-oh.” Evie said quietly.

( _“Mal was named Lady of the Court. Why else would it be popular?”_ ).

She didn’t look down at the ground, but she also didn’t meet Ally’s gaze. _‘Of course it’d be Mal..’_ Evie thought sadly to herself, her shoulders slightly slumping. _‘No wonder why I had so many orders..’_ She went through her papers again, the comments from before swirling in her mind.

( _"Trendy”_ ).

She swallowed, and nodded. “I see.” She sighed from her mouth, and looked back at Ally, blinking down her obvious hurt and feelings of betrayal. “Well, then.” She tried to keep the air amiable. “So I suppose you don’t want any of the designs?”

“If ‘Isle-style’ gets trendy again, _sure_ . But I wouldn’t bet on it now. It’s not really popular anymore.” Ally walked past Evie and roughly knocked her shoulder against hers, making Evie feel more of a failure (and _small_ ). Evie slightly stumbled over her footing but regained herself surprisingly quickly. Her mother did raise her to be a princess after all. Though Evie wore a smile, and walked it off (or tried to), it was obvious to those who were watching like Vice and Freddie, that she was more than hurt by the exchange. Her eyes were downcast and her shoulders were tucked in.

Once again, she was used, _overlooked_.

And once _again_ , she was in the shadow of Mal.

Once _again_ , she was suffering from the results of Mal’s (in)actions and presence.

She bit down on her bottom lip, and willed herself to not dwell on the bitterness that threatened to eat her whole; she _had_ to try to forget about it. She would feel better if she didn’t think about it. A few minutes after the confrontation, Evie found a place to sit -- an empty bench. There were some lingering students hanging in the background, some in cliques, others by themselves, mostly to study, evidenced by the books that they carried. (Some of them also had pins and stickers and walked in another direction when Evie passed by). 

In the middle of sewing the cloth together to close one of the doll's arms, Freddie popped another bubble. 

Vice reached over and popped it with her pen, again causing for the majority of it cover the lower half of Freddie's face. 

"Ow!" She put down her doll, and growled. "Stop that!" 

"Stop making that fucking noise." 

"Make me-" 

Vice reached over and caught Freddie's bottom lip in between her thumb and index fingers. A darker, dull shade of her usual green cat slit eyes bore into Freddie's vivid violet eyes. Her natural nails were cut shorter, but the ends of them were still pointy. Something that Freddie noticed when Vice started pressing her nails into them. 

Frozen in worry, she sighed in relief when Vice let her go. She covered her mouth with her hands. 

"Next time, I'll tear out your lips with my fucking teeth." Her eyes narrowed, her resting bitch face melting into that of a unreadable expression. 

Freddie swallowed silently, and subconsciously inched away from Vice.

Talk about harsh. 

Then again, Freddie forgot this was the same girl that she saw fight live multiple times already. 

....Maybe pissing her off wasn't the smartest choice. 

She went back to sewing her voodoo doll's arms again, quietly. When she did, she stole glances of Vice's face, but not as much as she did the first time.  _'Why can't I read her...?'_  She frowned. Nothing about her face gave off anything, nor her body language. When Freddie tried, all she got was... well, garbled mess.

Mixed signals. 

There goes that idea... Not that she had the idea to manipulate or blackmail the Kivuli, but it would be nice to at least have something over her. Just in case. Making a friend out of her was probably out of the question, as Freddie guessed she was on her "bad side". With a slightly sad sigh, she shook her head and continued working. 

Vice turned a page. "Stop it."

"I'm not looking at yo-"

"That's not what I mean." She wiped the gloss from Freddie's lips on the wooden chair, as if Freddie wasn't in front of her. "Stop trying to read me. It won't work." 

The Practioner's eyebrows furrowed. "...how did you..."

"Because I'm reading _you,"_ she continued, not looking up from her book. "You're trying to bond with me because we're both girls. It's not going to work. I don't want friends. I don't want an alliance with you. I'm here for a specific reason -- two, in fact and neither of them involves you, so get over yourself. 

You don't mean anything to me." 

Freddie felt a familiar hurt in her chest, but ignored it. "...I don't know what you're talking about." 

Having enough, she slammed her book closed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can smell you. You're lying."

"What does a liar even-"

"Freddie. I'll only say this shit once. And only once." She closed her eyes and put her hands together, interlocking her fingers with each other. "I am not your replacement for whoever the fuck you're mourning. I am not going to complete you. I don't want to. Don't use me for that shit." 

"....."

She opened her eyes and breathed out. She studied the cracks in Freddie's face-- the roundness of them, the rapid blinking, the softness in her face. 

The softness that made Vice want to punch her face in. 

Freddie looked down at the doll, and frowned. Her features softened more. "....My bad, then," she muttered. She shook her head and wiped at her face, gathering herself. She was not going to cry again. (Jack told her what Vice told him about not able to "handle crying people", confirmed by Jay when he asked about it...). She didn't mean to subconsciously latch onto the only female figure she could. She didn't mean to...-- "It.. won't happen again." She went back to sewing the doll's arms once more. Freddie didn't look up at Vice again. 

Vice reached for her notebook, and pen, writing down the following:  

_Freddie Facilier._

Above her name was Ben's name, crossed out. 

Vice crossed out Freddie's name. 

She closed the notebook, and reached for the reading book. 

With her silence secured, Vice enjoyed the rest of her makeshift break, pleased with herself. 

Two down, a whole kingdom, and populace to _break_.

 

 


End file.
